


Cry of the Mer

by FantasyOcean



Series: Breaking Free [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Captive, Dark, Display, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Science, Transformation, frienship, mermaid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2020-02-03 18:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 134,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18584374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyOcean/pseuds/FantasyOcean
Summary: Katherine Waters has several goals on her list. Graduate high school, get accepted into an advanced photography course, add another ten meters to her personal free-diving and deep water diving records respectively. Waking up in the stark, sterile environment of an underground lab, part of a secret and illegal experiment definitely didn't make the list. Nor did discovering not only were mermaids not the stories of legends people thought they were, but advanced genetic manipulation had slotted her for an extreme physical transformation.Faced with an unknown future in captivity, forced to adjust to a new body and lifestyle completely alien to her, with only a psychologically damaged young Mer for company, Katie's life has taken a dramatic turn and she'd do anything to escape it, return home, and regain any sense of the normalcy she lost the moment she opened her eyes.





	1. Captive

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

My nose scrunches and I moan softly, disturbed by the incessant beeping. _What is that?_ I crack open my eyelids and my vision is instantly assaulted by a harsh light overhead. I blink rapidly to adjust to the bright room. I freeze. This isn’t my bedroom and it’s certainly not my bed. I turn my head to the side. The walls are concrete, a basement perhaps, and chalk white. I’m lying on a metal table and my headache is growing rapidly more noticeable. I go to move off the table when I learn I am unable to move at all. It is then that I become aware to the feeling of rough leather chafing the skin of my wrists and ankles; both of which are secured to the unyielding surface.

Panic begins to build inside me, rising in a heavy lump in my throat. I shiver against the draft in the room. It doesn’t take me long to realize I’m wearing nothing under the scratchy and thin, hospital style sheet that’s draped over my body. _Is that where I am? The hospital? Did something happen?_ Though it doesn’t really explain the metal table, it could certainly explain the restraints. Perhaps I hit my head and most of this is a hallucination.

There’s the click of a door handle being turned and I just manage to see the door swing open through my peripheral vision. I can’t help but pull futilely at my restraints, despite the fact that if I am injured; moving probably isn’t helping.

“Relax, there’s no need for that,” a man’s voice says, moments before the owner enters my line of sight. It’s an older man, who is balding badly at the front of his scalp. Patches of salt and pepper hair cling around his ears. Dark brown eyes are framed by a pair of rectangular, thick-rimmed glasses that look like they’re pushed a little further up his nose than they need to be. A clipboard is hugged under one arm.

“Who are you? Where are we? What happened?” My voice is hoarse, but I force the questions out nonetheless.

“I will explain everything to you, I find keeping people in the loop is so much easier than listening to them fret. All of your questions will receive answers, but first there is something I need from you. I need you to confirm some information for me, do you think you can do that?”

I chew the inside of my cheek, but nod.

“Excellent. So we’ll start with your name, Katherine Waters, yes? Middle name Loraine?”

“Yes,” I reply. “But I prefer Katie.”

The man grunts in acknowledgement. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen, as of yesterday.” I think. _What day is it?_

“I would presume you mean Tuesday, you’ve been asleep for the past twenty-four hours. Your biological parents are not in the picture correct, one diseased, the other-”

“Not in the picture,” I acknowledge.

“And your guardian, Sophie Brooks right? Does she know where you were headed the other day?”

“Yes.”

“Which was where?”

“The docks by the south beach. I was meeting a client. They hired me for an underwater excursion and photography session. We were supposed to be gone all day. What happened? Was there an accident? Is that why I’m here?”

The man chuckles and the sound sends chills down my spine. “Oh no, I can assure you, you are in perfect physical and mental health.”

“Then why am I here?” A touch of terror enters my voice.

“Relax, did I not promise you answers? If you’ll turn your head to the left, you’ll see a screen.” I comply and sure enough, there’s an overhead projector and a screen covering half the wall. “This is a high security multinational, billion dollar research facility, the Lemuria Institution. We are the leading founders in many of today’s scientific discoveries. This is our Oceanarium building.”

A stone settles in the pit of my stomach. I don’t like where this is heading. “Um-”

“Hush. Please, save your questions for the end. Now, six years ago, we made an extraordinary find. One that, when released, will rewrite our history books. An aquatic, humanoid creature.”

“Like a mermaid?” I ask skeptically.

“Precisely. It may seem difficult to believe, but to our complete shock, one childhood fantasy is not so mythical. However, because of the rare nature of the specimen, we have not been able to publicize any of this information. For all we know it could be the only of its kind. And unless we can find another, a companion, we cannot open an exhibit without getting hell from environmentalists, and we cannot release it due to its time already in captivity and the fact that it could be critically endangered and is better off in our care. So, we are faced with a dilemma that, until recently, was unsolvable. But we are in luck. Over the past two years we have been extracting DNA from our aquatic friend in a safe manner that leaves no permanent damage to the host. We have been experimenting with cross-genetics and have been quite successful with many of our specimens. You see, if we cannot locate another merperson, for lack of better term, then we plan to create one. And we’ve perfected the formula. Now all that’s left is to graft the new DNA into a host. A human host. That, my dear, is where you come in.”

“What?” I exclaim.

“Calm down, I assure you it has been tested with human subjects before. Coma patients with zero chance of survival, mostly, and the body takes to the procedure quite well. You are in no danger.” Images flash across the screen, showing mice and other animals through this apparent procedure. Each develops a grotesque looking version of a fish tail, many mutilated beyond belief. When he gets to the human attempts, I watch, dumfounded, as three coma patients are put through the procedure. The images flash by rapidly, showing the change overtime. The tails… there’s no doubt in my mind that they are real. And that’s what frightens me.

I wet my lips. “Why? Why do you want to make me… that,” I ask in a shaky voice as I try desperately not to panic. _Keep him talking. Give myself time to think._

“Did I not make that clear?” He inquires. “Or is it that it is clear to you and we are about to start the ‘why me’ stage of this conversation where you tell me I’ll never get away with it, like I’m a villain in a film, and then dissolve into begging and pleading once you realize that I will?”

“What makes you think you will?” I demand, knowing I’m likely to regret asking. “Sophie will notice I’m missing.”

“Several reasons. Firstly, we are by over six world leaders and governments, I don’t have to worry about cops knocking at our door. Secondly, we were very thorough. Yesterday afternoon, two men in uniform showed up at the marine park your Sophie runs. They told her the news.” He holds up a photo of a covered corpse, strands of brown-blonde hair sticking out, as well as a single lock of purple; the same shade as the one in my hair. “About the hit and run accident. Drunk driver. How her beloved adoptive daughter was hit, didn’t survive. They offered her the comfort that you died quickly. Dentals and medical records of some bone restructuring after a nasty break confirmed the identity. Katherine Waters is dead. It also helps that I chose a subject who resided on the opposite side of the world. Australia is lovely, but welcome to the United States, Miss Waters.” He leans in close. “And the final reason, just in case that wasn’t enough; within the next twelve hours, the effects will not only be irreversible, but also to a point where, even if we were interrupted and you were magically saved, you would want to continue.” He shows me another photo of a women with malformed legs, only fused from the ankles down, with her feet cardboard thin and elongated, the skin twisted and warped. “This is the state of the transformation after twelve hours. The procedure takes roughly sixty hours to complete. “By this point, would you want us to finish what we started?”

I turn away and squeeze my eyes shut against the tears that begin to roll down my cheeks. “So that’s it then? No way out?”

“No,” he replies curtly. “Though I will admit, you are holding up better than I thought you would. You are not going to start begging now are you?”

“I don’t see the point,” I answer, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Unless there is a way for me to stop it?”

“Again, no. So if that’s that, we might as well get started.” He pulls a small trolley over. It’s filled with medical supplies.

“Wait!” I beg, my resolve slipping. He arches an eyebrow. “Will you walk me through it? Before you start will you tell me what’s going to happen? Please?”

The man sighs and runs his hand over the bare skin of his head. “I suppose.” He brings more images up onto the screen. “It will start with your feet. The bones will dissolve and they will merge and stretch out, but it isn’t until later that they actually begin to take the shape of the fin. Your eyes will develop a watery over layer, barely noticeable unless you look closely; it will help you see clearly underwater. The jaw is next. It will shift to accommodate the new sizing of your teeth, which will get stronger. The eyeteeth will sharpen into powerful fangs that will actually return to a normal state. We have yet to determine if this is at will, fueled by emotion, or a reflex like a cat’s claws,” he begins. “You will develop gills here,” he touches the side of my neck just behind my jawbone below my ear.

“So I won’t be able to surface again?” I ask.

“No, no. It is just as unusual as the fangs; the gills fade away when not in use. They will merge with your skin when you’re above the water. Our specimen has a fully functional set of lungs, so you will be able to breathe freely in both environments. You will of course grow scales on the tail once it has fully formed, but also on your chest as well. By this point your fin will have taken shape and become functional, so the scales are the final transition.”

“Sixty hours?”

“Yes. You will be awake during the transition. Well, not the whole thing, you will sleep, but I am only going to sedate you in the beginning to make applying IV’s and such, faster, easier, and a little more comfortable for you. While you’re awake, you will be fully provided for, your body kept healthy and hydrated. I doubt you’ll care much for entertainment. Before we begin, do you have any allergies or sensitivities, especially to chemicals? I suggest you speak up because it will determine whether or not you survive.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never been tested or anything, but I’ve never had an allergic reaction to anything either.”

“Hmm, we’ll keep a monitor on your systems then.”

“Does it hurt?” The question slips out. _I can’t stop this._

“We won’t know for sure, after all the only human subjects have had little brain activity, but from scans we have learned that there is discomfort for most of it, perhaps twinges. As far as we know the only significantly painful part will be when your legs merge. This is probably because it is the most intense part as well. The pain isn’t enough to kill you though, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“What happens after?”

“You adjust. Like I said, Katherine Waters is dead, and once your transformation is complete, you’ll no longer be human. I don’t know how it will affect your mind or your ability to speak, but it won’t matter because you won’t need to.”

“So in other words you plan to make me like an animal at the zoo? I don’t get it, why not just hire somebody for this? I’m sure you’d get plenty of volunteers and it would be less of a hassle.”

“Actually it would be more of one. Hiring someone means contracts, and payouts, and lawyers, and restrictions and conditions, really this is easier. This way, all I have to deal with is making a person disappear. That’s done and now I can do what I want with you.” He pats my head. “But don’t worry too much; we’ll take good care of you. Really, I don’t see the issue. You’ll have free food and accommodations, a unique new body, full medical care, and you’ll never have to go to school or work. You can live a laid-back life. We don’t need to use you for experiments beyond some basic observations and scans. The only thing we’ll expect from you is to behave. Put on a pretty smile for the crowds when we open the attraction.”

“Well I don’t want it. I just want to go home to Sophie,” my voice cracks a little.

“You don’t get a choice in the matter, remember? Now enough chatter, it’s high time we got started.” He drapes a hospital style gown across my chest. “Now I’m going to let you up. You’re going to put that on and we are going to go down the hall and get you prepped. I’ve been kind enough to ensure that you’ll be prepped by women, since you will lose that robe very soon. You aren’t going to give me a hard time or you’ll seriously regret the punishments that will come with it. I have zero tolerance, you understand?”

“Yes,” I sniff. I hate showing him weakness, but I can’t stop the tears that fall from the corners of my eyes. He unlatches the cuffs holding me down and moves to face the door. I sit up and slip the hospital gown over my head. It falls to my knees, but does little to keep me warm. I walk over to him, my eyes scanning for a way out.

“Don’t bother. We are fourteen floors underground. The elevator’s lowest level is two floors above us. Every guard in the facility knows your face as is on the lookout for you. Each stairwell is heavily guarded. All the guards are carrying Tasers and stun-guns, designed to painfully subdue, but not kill. Then you’ll have to deal with punishment after that.”

“I get it,” I retort. “No escaping.”

“I don’t care much for sarcasm, Miss Waters,” He retorts before he opens the door and presses a hand into the small of my back, forcing me forward. The halls are all the same, white cement lit by caged bulbs in the ceiling. He leads me to the end of one such hall and pushes me into the room. It looks like a typical doctor’s office. A sink and many cupboards line the one wall, an examination bed is against another, and there’s a door leading to a smaller room off to the side. It lacks typical medical posters and such though. Two women are waiting inside. One older, her shoulder length hair is fully grey and her calculating brown eyes scare me. The other woman is much younger. She looks to be in her early twenties. Her black hair is pulled into a simple ponytail. She looks friendlier, but I know she won’t help me. Probably can’t.

“You know what to do?” The man behind me asks.

“Of course, now leave her and let us do our job,” the older woman retorts. There’s a grunt in response before the man departs. “Take her.”

The other woman steps forward and grabs my upper arm. Her grip is firm, but gentle. “Come on,” she says as she leads me to the side room. It’s a small barren bathroom. A toilet, a roll of toilet paper on a hook, a small metal sink, and a showerhead with a drain in the far corner. I glance at the woman expectantly. She nods towards the toilet. “They don’t want anything in your systems before they begin, so unless you want a catheter, I suggest you go now.” I blush slightly.

“What about-”

“You’ll be getting an enema in a few minutes.”

“Oh.”

“I have to go prepare that. I trust you’ll be okay in here?” I nod. She leaves the room and I turn and glance over the room. Fear grips my heart and I pinch myself, just in case it’s a dream. No such luck. I feel my lip quiver and I bite it, hard. I swallow the lump in my throat and fight back tears; crying won’t help me. I may not be able to stop this, but I’m not going to make it worse on myself. Lie low and wait for an opportunity. It’s the only plan I’ve got.

 

I’m tying the sash closed on my gown when the woman walks back in. She sets a small bottle on the counter and I hesitate at the nozzle on it. I’ve had an enema before, once, when I was younger and I know it’s not pleasant.

“Don’t bother with the sash,” the woman says. “You have to take it off now anyways.”

“Do I have to?” I ask, my voice cracking.

She nods as she unrolls a towel on the floor. “Yes. Come on.” She reaches for me and I take a step back, hugging my shoulders. “You might as well get it done and over with,” she advises. “Stalling won’t help you, you know that.” A sob escapes me and I move further away from her. She stands up and pulls me against her. “Hush now, I know. I know you’re scared, but keeping them waiting won’t help you any. I wish I could help you, this is wrong, but we’re both stuck.”

“I don’t want to do this,” I whisper.         

“I know.” She pulls me over to the towel. Her fingers pull open the sash and I don’t fight as she opens the gown and lets it fall to the floor. “I need you to lie down on your side.” I take a deep breath and wipe my nose on my arm before I sit down on the towel. Another deep breath and I stretch out on my side. “Curl up, okay? Your knees need to touch your chest.”

I slowly comply with her request. I hear the snap of thin plastic gloves as she pulls them on; feel them as she touches my thigh. I flinch and try to pull away. “Please, don’t.”

“Relax, it’s going to be okay. Have you ever had one of these before?”

“Once. I was younger though. It hurt.”

“I know, this one is a little different though. It’s far more powerful. The cramps will hurt more, but it will work much faster and the pain will fade more quickly.” I feel the tip of the nozzle against my skin and panic.

“No, wait, please!”

“I can’t sweetie, but let’s talk. Keep your mind off it. What’s your name?”

“Katie,” I whisper, wincing. “But I suppose that doesn’t matter. They’ll probably call me something different now, if they call me anything at all, right?”

“Yes, they are giving you a new name, but I figured you might want someone to know your real one. I don’t want to hurt you, Katie. I wish things were different. It might not mean much, but I put in a request to be one of your handlers. That way you’ll have someone who still looks at you as a person. The tail shouldn’t change that. I doubt my chances are high, but I tried.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “You said they were giving me a new name. Do you know what it is?”

“Not for certain, but I know they were debating between Aqua and Bailey, but they could have picked another.”

“Hopefully Bailey, Aqua sounds stupid.”

“Yeah, I suppose it does,” she agrees. My stomach make a strange growling noise and I feel it begin to cramp up. “You raising a bear or something?” The woman teases. I let out a small laugh, but it ends in a sob.

“Not that I know of.”

She rubs my back gently. “It’s going to be okay.”

I wince as the older woman jabs another needle into my arm. This is the fifth one and my arm is starting to bruise. She hasn’t spoken a word to me, or even met my gaze, just gone about her task quickly, as though I can’t actually feel the needles she’s practically ramming into my arm. I know this is likely how I’m going to be treated for the rest of my life and the knowledge makes my heart clench.

“There,” the woman states as she sets down the empty syringe. She moves away and comes back with a glass. She shoves it into my hands and barks out a single word command. “Drink.”

The liquid is thick and yellow, and has a horribly pungent odor. “What is this?” I ask.

Jenny, the younger woman, answers me, “it’s to make you throw up,” she explains. “In case there was anything in your stomach, but I don’t see the point since you haven’t eaten in the past twenty-four hours at least. Just drink it okay?”

I nod, take a deep breath, and tip back the glass. The liquid tastes just a foul as it smells and I gag on it, but manage to choke down a few mouthfuls. Jenny takes the glass from me and offers me an encouraging smile. Then she hands me a tin bucket. I wait a few seconds but nothing happens. “Are you sure this stuff-” I break off as my stomach lurches. Suddenly the liquid is coming back up along with a fair amount of bile.

Jenny peels my hair away from my face. “Yes, I’m sure that it works.”

I groan as my stomach flips again. There’s nothing left to come up though, and I spend the next couple of minutes dry heaving. When my stomach finally settles I wipe the corner of my mouth, my chest heaving. Jenny takes the bucket from me and hands me back the hospital gown. I put it back on, grateful to be covered up. She pulls me to my feet.

“Come on,” she says. “It’s almost time.” My stomach begins to twist itself into a huge knot inside of me as she leads me down the hall. She pulls open the door to a stairwell, nodding at the guard seated there, and ushers me up. We go down another hall, up another flight of stairs, and into the elevator.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Ground level three,” she replies. “The operation room has been prepared for you.”

“You aren’t actually going to cut me open or anything right?” I ask in a pleading tone.

“No, the procedure doesn’t require surgery and I don’t think they plan on opening you up later. You’re forgetting that you’re going to be specimen number two. And they’ve had number one to play with for six years. I think they’ve learned all they are going to about the insides.”

The elevator door slides open and Jenny continues walking. I hurry to follow her, not wanting to be caught alone after the warning I received earlier. This area is much, much busier, with scientists and others bustling about. The walls are still white, but are tiled and there’s a large window allowing sunlight to spill into the massive floor. I pause briefly, wondering if I’ll ever see outside again.

We pass a huge tank as we walk. A brief glance over the rail tells me it reaches the main ground floor and extends up at least another two floors. The crystalline water is abundant with small reef fish, swaying kelp, and colorful coral. I stare through the glass, glancing around to see if I can catch sight of the merperson. Jenny puts her hand on my shoulder, startling me. “She’s not in there. They can’t have her in a public tank remember? Not by herself,” she gives me a tug and we resume walking. “You know, that’s the only descent thing about this whole situation. At least she won’t be alone anymore.”

“What is she like?” I inquire, suddenly curious about the creature who is likely my new roommate for the rest of my life.

“I’ve never actually met her, not personally anyways, I’ve seen her being transferred around, occasionally caught a glimpse walking by a room, but she’s kept in a restricted part of the building. I don’t have clearance.”

“Oh.”

Jenny leads me through a set of double doors into a wide room. It has small plastic chairs and leads off into three separate rooms, all with closed steel doors. I know instantly that I’m wanted inside one of those rooms. Terror floods my senses and I take a few steps backwards and shake my head. “No,” I whisper. “No, I can’t do this. I have to-” I don’t bother finishing as I turn and try to bolt back through the door. Jenny grabs my arms, pulls me back, and hugs me to her tightly.

“Calm down,” she orders.

“No, let go, please I cannot do this,” I beg, a sob leaving my throat. “Don’t take me in there; please don’t let them do this.”

Jenny rubs my back. “Get your head back, Katie. Relax; it’s going to be okay. You can’t stop it; you know that. Don’t make it harder on yourself. I don’t want to restrain you. Please don’t force it to come to that. Take a minute, okay? Relax, breathe, and then we’ll go in there. They aren’t going to jump you the second you walk in, so relax.”

Easier said than done, still, I know I can’t win this fight and that Jenny is right, I need to relax. I take a couple of deep breaths and slump against her. “I’m scared, I don’t want to do this.”

“I know, sweetheart, and believe me; if it were up to me, I would walk you to the front door and turn the other way, but I can’t. Do you think you’re okay enough to go inside now?”

I hesitate, but nod and allow her to lead me to the middle door. She swipes a card and a small light flashes green. She opens the door and brings me inside. The room is small and has a conjoining door off to the side of a giant mirror. One-way glass. So they can watch. I swallow the lump in my throat. The guy from earlier is in the room, along with a man who looks more like an assistant.

“She’s all ready to go?” The scientist asks. Jenny nods.

“Go sit down,” she tells me, nodding to the hospital bed. The metal rail that runs around it is already equipped with restraints. I shudder, but take a seat on the edge of the mattress.

“Good, let’s get started then.”

“Wait,” Jenny says. “Look, I know this might be a little out of line, but-” she pauses. “She has been very good about all of this. Far better than we could expect anyone to hold up, given the circumstances, especially someone so young. She hasn’t thrown any fits, tried to bolt, or given us a hard time. Mild hesitation, yes, but nothing more. I don’t think that should go unrewarded. Just as bad behavior shouldn’t go unpunished.”

“I suppose you’re right. What are you suggesting?”

Jenny turns to me. “If you could ask for anything right now, other than to be let go, what would it be?”

“To say goodbye,” I whisper. “To Sophie. If I’m never going to see her again, can I at least call her? Say goodbye?”

“That would be impossible, considering you’re dead, remember?” The scientist states. “Pick something else. Perhaps you’d like to be sedated the whole process, or given some form of entertainment?”

“You mentioned that I’m supposed to have caretakers or something?”

“Handlers,” he corrects.

“Right, handlers. Can Jenny be one of them? Please?” I beg. I meet her gaze. “Stay with me?”

“I don’t tend to make staff changes par request like this,” the scientist mutters.

“Please? I promise, I won’t cause trouble,” I beg. I want this. I want to be around someone who will see me as an individual, as a person.

The man sighs. “It would be up to you, Miss Barnes. The hours are much longer than your current position, far more taxing, and you’d have to be on call at any hour. Despite all that, the pay upgrade significantly more and you’ll have the opportunity to move up.”

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Jenny says.

“Then we’ll see about getting you training. Leave for now. I would actually like to get started now.” Jenny nods and meets my gaze briefly before she heads outside. “Remove that gown.” I’m ordered. I blush but slip out of it nonetheless. I promised not to be difficult and I don’t want to cross this man. “Now lie down.” My head has barely hit the small pillow when the assistant has my wrists pulled into the restraints, locking me down. My legs are left free, but I suppose they have to be. A tear slides down my cheek. This is it. I’m about to lose everything in the eyes of these people and become a simply animal. A money grab. And a freak of nature. The scientist approaches with a needle. He says nothing to me as he shoves it into my arm.

Black spots dance in my vision as he moves away. I fight to remain conscious for a few minutes before I lose and slip into a forced sleep.


	2. The Transformation - Part One

I wake with a start and try to sit upright, but can’t; I’m still restrained. Not a dream then. The first thing I notice is the tubes up my nose. They’re irritating and slightly painful; not to mention that they hinder my breathing. There a tubes in my arms too. Five of them; three on one arm, two on the other. They’re taped down and are feeding different IV fluids into my body. I shudder at the different hanging bags. One has a transparent blue colored liquid, three of contain clear liquid, and the final one has a thick red liquid in it. It doesn’t take me long to figure out what it is and I instantly feel sorry for the donner. _That’s a lot of blood_.

I glance to my left to see Jenny sitting in a plastic chair that’s pushed against the wall with the panel of one-way glass. Her legs are curled up on the chair and her nose is in a book. I can’t see the title. “Jenny?” I manage to whisper her name. My throat is insanely dry and it’s making my voice raspy.

She glances up and offers me a small smile. She gets up, walks over, and brushes some hair off my face. “Hey,” she greets, her voice soft. “How are you feeling?”

“Groggy. Like I’ve been turned inside out,” I mutter.

“Sorry sweetie.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“About twelve hours,” she replies. “You’ve done pretty well so far.”

“It’s started then?” I instantly regret asking.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“I’m afraid to move my legs,” I whisper. “Are they still, you know, legs?”

“Yes. They’ll be last to change; second to last part of the procedure.”

“Am I going to regret asking what is changed? Like, what it looks like?”

“Do you want to know?”

“I don’t know, yes, no…yes.”

Jenny laughs a little. “Look at me and open your eyes as wide as you can.” I frown but comply and she stares intently at my eyes. “It’s barely noticeable, but really kind of cool,” she comments.

“What?”

“Your eyes. I’ve been grilled on all the changes and on mermaid physiology over the past couple of hours. Your eyes have a bit of a glassy shine to them now. It’s supposed to allow you to see clearly underwater, and you have to look closely to really notice it, but at first glance, they do look a little…glossy? Do I look blurry to you?”

“What? No, why?”

“Just curious. It’s supposed to help you see underwater, I was wondering if it hindered your sight above it.”

“No, I can see you just fine.” I say.  “So what’s in all of those?” I motion with a finger towards one of the IV bags.

Jenny touches the red one. “Blood. The blueish one is a chemical that is neutralizing your nervous system and immune system so you don’t reject the change or any of the chemicals. Two of the clear bags are a mixture of chemicals that are infused with the DNA, the third is just nutrients to keep your body going.”

“And the tubes? Can they come out? They hurt and they aren’t helping me breathe.”

“They’re not for breathing. Those are going down into your lungs. It is set on a timer to release a gaseous form of whatever the cocktail is that they’re pumping into you. That way it’s absorbed directly into your cells.”

“Oh.”

I jump when the door suddenly opens and a man walks in. He’s carrying a tray of five syringes and his cold calculating gaze fixes on me, sizing me up.

“Can I help you?” Jenny asks.

“I am to administer these to the subject,” the man says. His voice is heavily accented, though I can’t identify its origin. “You were informed of this, yes?”

“Of course, I’m sorry, I lost track time and thought you were coming later.” Jenny removes the restraint from my wrist and slides a hand underneath me. “Roll over,” she tells me as she twists my body onto my side, so that I’m facing away from them. My feet feel thin as they flop over and I know they probably barely resemble feet. Jenny pushes my head down against the bed. “Straighten out and stay very still,” she commands. I obey, startled by her tone. The man snaps his gloves as he puts them on. I wonder if he did in on purpose to make me nervous. It works. He begins to poke and prod along my spine.

“What are you doing?” I twist to try and see.

Jenny pushes my head back down. “Stay still,” she repeats. “It’ll be okay.” The man pokes around at the bottom of my spine and I try to remain still. I’m given no warning when he sticks the needle into the base of my tailbone. The pain is intense and I stiffen, a whimper escaping me. The pressure grows unbearable before he finally removes the needle. I try to roll back over, but Jenny holds me still. “You’re not done yet.” The man’s gloved finger returns. He presses into the small of my back and has barely moved his hand when the needle goes in. I gasp at the sudden sharp pain. I can feel the bruise forming as he withdraws the syringe. Another is injected into the middle of my spine, the fourth between my shoulder blades.

“One more,” Jenny says. “Stay perfectly still okay?” I chew my lip and remain silent. There’s no finger first to give me warning to the needle and when the sharp point slides into my spine, at the base of my neck, I can’t help but cry out. My teeth slice through my lip as I bite it against the painful pressure in my neck. It feels like forever, though in reality it was probably only a couple of seconds, before the needle is removed from my skin. Footsteps and the sound of the door shutting signal the man’s departure.

Jenny carefully rolls me back over and restrains my wrist once more. She pulls her chair over and sits down. “You alright?”

I chew my lip again and fight back tears. All of this is getting to be too much and I just want to curl up in a fetal position and sob until it all goes away. “What was that stuff?”

“Spinal fluid,” Jenny answers. She brushes more hair off my face. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you beforehand.”

“I’m not going to have to do that again am I?”

“Yes, once more, forty-eight hours in, but I don’t think there will be as many needles next time.”

“I’ve always hated needles,” I whisper. “I want to go home.”

Jenny hesitates. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” She suggests. “You’re going to need it.” She doesn’t wait for a reply as she stands and leaves the room, turning the light off as she does. I rest my head against my shoulder, unable to do much else, and try to drift off to sleep.

***

I awaken with jaw pains. My entire lower jaw aches as though I’ve bashed it off a rock or something. I open my mouth and move my jaw around, trying to relieve the pressure. There’s a loud pop and one side of my jaw slumps sideways. I shriek, but more from fear than pain. _What’s going on?_ More than anything I wish I could see my jaw right now, or at least reach up and feel around to try and figure out what’s going on. A thread of saliva trails down the side of my chin.  I try to lick it away and scrape my tongue against my tooth, a very sharp tooth. There’s another pop and my lower jaw becomes dislocated entirely. Incapable of closing my mouth, I close my eyes instead. Now that it’s hanging free and fully dislocated, the pain in my jaw grows. My gums are aching too.

I turn to face the mirror, hoping someone is watching on the other side. “At is appeing?” I lisp.

It takes a few seconds for the door to open and a boy who looks to be about eighteen or nineteen walks out. I’m thankful for the thin sheet covering my body. He grabs a metal cookie tray and sets it on the bed before leaning over me to release my one arm from its restraints. Keeping a firm grip on my wrist, he drags my arm over and ties it off next to my other arm. The position is uncomfortable on my shoulder and I roll onto my side. I’m assuming that’s what he wanted. He slides one hand under my head and lifts, sliding the tray underneath and releasing my head. With my jaw the way it is, I’m unable to stop the drool leaking from my mouth. It begins to pool on the tray and I realize its purpose and am instantly offended. The boy turns without a word and walks back to the door.

“Hey!” I shout, the word garbled. “On’t eave ee like his!”

The boy pauses for a moment in the doorframe. “Shut up!” He snaps with a shake of his head. “Stupid fish.” Then he slams the door behind him.

My heart clenches. I’m barely into this transformation and I’m already being treated like a mindless beast. A stray tear slips down my cheek. I want to go home. _Sophie, please come save me._

I lie there, in a pool of my own saliva, for who knows how long. The pain has dulled and now everything has gone numb.  I look up when the door opens and Jenny steps in. “Good morning sweetie, how are you-” she breaks off when she gets a good look at me. “Hey, who did this?”

“Oiy,” I attempt, pointing at the mirror. “Ease elp.”

“Okay, we’ll fix this; just hang on okay?” She disappears into the room behind the mirror. When she comes back out, she’s carrying a towel and what looks like a mouth guard. She takes the tray out from under me, replaces it with the towel, and dumps it in the sink. Then she comes back and opens my mouth further. “I just want to take a look, okay? Wow, those came in nicely. Now I need you to try and bite down on this as hard as you can, alright?” She sticks the mouth guard between my teeth. It takes effort to close my jaw, but I manage to close my mouth around the guard. There’s sickening crack and slight pain as my jaw pops back into place.

“Ow, jeez, that was unpleasant,” I say, my words still slightly garbled.

“Can you close your mouth fully?” Jenny asks. I nod and comply.

“It feels a little weird though,” I state as I adjust to the strange feeling in my jaw. At least my speech has improved. “What happened?”

“Your fangs came in,” Jenny says. “That’s why your jaw was dislocated, so it could adjust to the new sizing of your teeth.”

“Really? I have fangs?” I open my mouth and try to feel them with my tongue. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

“No, they’ve faded right now. Here, snarl at me.”

“Snarl?”

“Bare your teeth, like a dog would.”

I shrug, but curl my upper lip and try to look menacing. “Are they there?”

“No. But they were a few seconds ago, when your jaw was still dislocated. I wonder what made them fade.” I frown and try really hard. I think fangs would look kind of cool. They might not be so bad to have. I focus on my teeth. _Please form._ Suddenly my lower lip is poked painfully.

“Ow.” I open my mouth a little. “That hurt.”

“They look pretty cool,” Jenny comments. “Creepy, but cool.”

I nod, then shift uncomfortably on the bed. “I don’t suppose you would be allowed to let me out of these cuffs for a few minutes, would you? I really need to stretch.”

Jenny’s face falls. “I'm not supposed to remove the restraints unless you need to be rolled over or something, in which case I’m supposed to only remove one at a time and maintain total control over your free arm.”

“Oh,” I respond. “Could you at least move the restraints further down so I can sit up? These bars won’t let me slide them down the length of the bed to do it myself.”

“Yeah, that I can probably do,” she agrees. She removes the restraints, one at a time, and clips them behind the second bar of the bed, allowing me room to sit up, but she’d have to move them back again for me to lie down. I purposely keep my gaze away from my body, unwilling to see what thin mass of flesh is left of my feet.

There’s a sudden beeping noise, followed by a hissing sound. The tubes in my noise rattle slightly and then I'm choking, coughing uncontrollably as I attempt to pull oxygen into my lung with no success.

Jenny grabs my arms. “Relax, it’ll be over in a couple seconds and you’ll be able to breathe again.” She’s right. The hissing noise stops and seconds later, I’m inhaling properly. I gasp in the process. “That’s the first time that’s happened while you’ve been awake, isn’t it?”

I nod. “Yes. How often does it happen?”

“Every three hours, on the hour,” Jenny replies. “I guess you could keep time with it. It’s eleven a.m. right now.”

“Eleven,” I whisper. “I wonder what time it is back home. I wonder what Sophie’s doing right now.”

“Mourning probably,” Jenny states. Her face suddenly goes ashen. “Oh my goodness, sweetie; I am so sorry, I didn’t even think.”

I can’t help but sniffle at the thought. I can’t imagine how Sophie must feel. I hope she doesn’t blame herself. There’s no reason for it, but knowing her; she’d find some way to twist it and pin the blame on herself. “It’s okay,” I mumble. “I guess I just really miss her.”

“She’s your mother right?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to your birth parents? If it’s not too personal to ask.”

“My father died when I was young,” I say. “My mother and Sophie used to be friends back in high school, but they had some sort of falling out around the time I was born. I don’t know what it was. It was always my father who would take me to visit, but when he died...” I trail off, feeling my throat close a little at the tough subject. “I remember being woken in the middle of the night and Roxanne driving me down to the marine park. She told me she’d follow me in, sent me ahead, and then took off. Sophie didn’t tell me when it happened because she didn’t want me to feel abandoned or unwanted, but Roxanne had transferred parental rights to her. I haven’t seen Roxanne since, but I don’t really want to. I love Sophie. She wanted me. Even when my own mother didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Jenny says.

“I just keep thinking about her now. Sophie’s parents passed away before I was born and she was the only child of two only children. She has no living relatives and isn’t able to have kids. She loved me and now she’s going to be all by herself. And it’s my fault.”

“Honey, it’s not your fault,” Jenny says.

“I shouldn’t have gone. I should never have agreed to go on that excursion. It was a setup wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Jenny admits.

I nod. “I knew. Deep down, something wasn’t right. There should have been more planning. And you don’t hire a teenaged photographer and want an excursion, you hire a photographer to take photos. There should have been a dive master. I shouldn’t have gone, but I wanted the money. Sophie’s birthday is in two weeks and had my eye on something nice.”

“What was it?” Jenny inquires.

“It was a necklace,” I answer. “A simple gold chain with a locket on it. There was a little dolphin hanging from the locket, Sophie loves dolphins. I was going to put a picture of the two of us inside it and get it engraved to say ‘the family I chose to love’. It’s what she always told me I was; the family she chose to love rather than the family she was born with.” More tears run down my cheeks. “I wanted her to know that’s what she is to me. Instead, the only thing she’ll get for her birthday is a ‘dead’ daughter, the last of her family. And it’s my fault.”

Jenny squeezes my knee. “I’m really sorry. This shouldn’t have happened. If they wanted a subject, they should have hired someone, or picked up an orphan off the street and given them the choice, at least this would be a better life than one on the streets. They should have picked someone who had something to gain, not someone who had everything to lose.”

“Part of me is glad it’s me because it means that someone else doesn’t have to suffer. And it might not be so bad if things were different. If I could still see Sophie and everyone here didn’t look at me like a mindless beast and treat me like one too.” I stare at my hands. “If things were different, I may have even agreed to it.” I reach my hand down and pull against the restraints to try to scratch an itch on my knee. I have really to wiggle around in the cuff to get it to slide a little further up my arm so that I can reach. “These things are a pain.”

“They’ll come off when you’re done changing, hang in there.”

“How far in am I? That scientist said it took sixty hours. How long have I been going through this?”

“Close to thirty-four hours now,” Jenny replies. “I’ve been warned that the more drastic changes should be starting any time now.”

“What’s next?” I ask. The scientist said the tail was last, that I would grow scales on my chest and gills first.

“Gills,” Jenny says. “Though they don’t normally open, so you can’t tell, but the brain activity scans did pick up discomfort around now. Actually, the gills are the first change that showed up as a discomfort, and the only thing that read actual pain was the tail, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“I hope not,” I whisper. I let my head fall backwards so I can stare at the ceiling. “Call me childish, but I’m so bored. There’s not much I can do but lie here and listen to the beeping of these machines when you’re not here, and talk to you when you are about things I want to forget about. And sleep, I can sleep, but I need help to sit up and lie down on my own. You could leave right now for the day and I’d be screwed. The only way anyone else here is going to bother letting me lie down is if the need me to in order for them to jab me with something or something.”

Jenny nods. “Maybe I’ll ask if I can bring a deck of cards in here or something tomorrow and maybe leave them with you so you can at least play solitaire.”

I raise an eyebrow and wave my hands a little. “Uh, I appreciate the offer, but how am I supposed to play anything like this?”

“That’s why I’d ask, see if you can be released for a bit, or at least have restraints with ties so they’re longer and give you a little free range with your hands,” Jenny explains. A little timer on her watch goes off and she glances at it.

“What’s that mean?” I ask.

“It’s my lunch break. I promised my son that I’d drive him to a friend’s house when I took my break. Will you be okay here on your own?”

I nod. “I’ll probably try and take a nap.”

“Alright.” Jenny adjusts my restraints so that I can lie down, bids me goodbye, and leaves me alone in the room. With the beeping machines. _Beep. One, two, three. Beep._ I sigh.


	3. Transformation - Part Two

I don’t end up taking my nap. Not long after Jenny leaves, I begin to feel that discomfort she was talking about and it isn’t pleasant. It begins with an itch. I twist my neck and my wrist as best I can, but I’m unable to scratch it. I fall back in the bed, defeated, and attempt to ignore the itch in hopes that it will fade. It doesn’t. It begins to grow worse and then it starts to sting like lemon juice in a cut. I wince. As my neck continues to throb, there’s a burning sensation that starts up in my chest. At first it’s just little. Some tightness. However, that changes very quickly and suddenly it feels on fire. I can’t help but cry out. The burning sensation grows, flames licking their way up my windpipe. I cough. It doesn’t help that at that moment there’s a loud tone and a hissing noise, signaling the return of the gas. I can feel it rattling the nasal tubes and then I can’t breathe again. It takes thirty seconds for the gas to subside. As if it has an instant affect the burning gets worse. A wail escapes me. I would do anything for a glass of water or something cold right now. Anything to ease the blaze.

Sweat beads on my brow and it becomes hard to breathe. I grip the rail of the bed tightly, squeeze my eyes shut, and try to wait it out. This has to be the ‘discomfort’ of my gills forming. If this is discomfort, I’m terrified for the tail.

The pain is still here when Jenny returns and by this point, I'm gasping for breath. I feel like a fish pulled from the water.

“I feel like every time I leave you alone, I return to you in pain and in need of help,” Jenny sighs. “What’s the matter?”

“Water,” I wheeze. “Please, it burns.”

“I can’t give you water, sweetheart, you’re not allowed to have anything in your system until this is over. What hurts?”

“My throat and… and my chest. Hard to breathe.”

“Okay, hang in there,” Jenny says. She hurries to the sink and fills a glass with water. I watch as she brings it over. She presses the cool glass against the skin of my neck. Wetting her fingers, she rubs the liquid against my throat. While it feels nice on my dry skin, it doesn’t help take the pain away. Tears roll down my cheeks as I wonder about how long it will last. A door slamming against the wall makes me jump. The boy from earlier comes back in and drops something on the chair Jenny was using earlier. It hits with a dull thud. It looks like a short, clear, water-filled lifejacket. It’s frozen solid.

“I was told to give this to you when the gills started coming in,” the boy says to Jenny. “You’re here now, so here. It’s apparently supposed to help shock the lungs into widening to make breathing easier.”

“How long has she been like this?”

The boy shrugs. “Forty-five minutes? I don’t know.”

“And you’re only bringing this out now!” Jenny demands. “You couldn’t have helped her?”

“Hey, babysitting the fish is your job, I'm just supposed to keep an eye on the monitors and the room, and report any changes.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks away. A muscle feathers in Jenny’s jaw, showing her displeasure.

“Jerk,” I mutter. Jenny doesn’t speak; instead she releases both my restraints and pulls me upright. She keeps a hand on one of my arms.

“Arms out,” she requests. I blush slightly at her request. I really wish I had been allowed to keep the gown. The sheet works fine when I’m lying down, but now… I sigh and put my arms out. Jenny slides the jacket on and buckles it up. It barely reaches the bottom of my ribcage, and I gasp at the sudden cold. The boy was right; it does make it a little easier to breathe, though the pain is still present. “Better?”

I nod. “Yeah, a little. Thanks.”

“Let me see your neck,” she requests. She gently pushes on my head and I tilt it to the side.

“Can you see anything?” I ask.

“The area is really red, but I don’t actually see gills. The only way to find out if they’ve formed is for you to be underwater. You could stick your head in a bucket,” she suggests. I shake my head. “Why not?”

I wring my hands. “I don’t want to know,” I whisper. “The fangs are one thing, you could have easily just filed my teeth, and my feet could very well just be tightly bound in a big sock or something. As long as I don’t look, it’s possible in my mind. But gills, breathing underwater,” I hesitate. “That makes it real and I'm just…not ready yet.” I hang my head, my hair falling into my face. Jenny squeezes my shoulder.

“I understand that it’s hard, but what are you going to do tomorrow when the transformation completes? You’re going to have a-”

“I know,” I snap.

Jenny’s face falls. “I wasn’t trying to upset you, I-”

“I know. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I guess I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed,” I admit.

“Do you want some time by yourself?”

I shake my head. “No, not really.” I shiver, suddenly very cold. The pain has subsided and now this frozen life jacket is really cold. I unclip the buckle and slide it off. I grab the sheet and tug it around my body instead.

“Feeling any better?”               

“Yeah, a little. The pain is gone and I can breathe. Tomorrow is really…” I trail off.

“Yes. You’re forty hours in. At eleven tonight you’ll be woken up for your final injections.”

“You mean the ones they put in my back?” I wince as she nods her head. “That was really painful.”

“Don’t expect to get much sleep tonight,” Jenny says. “But I'm not leaving work tonight, so you won’t be on your own.”

“Thank you,” I sigh with relief. “It means a lot.”

“No one should go through something like this alone; besides, someone’s got to look after you.” She hesitates. “I hate to do this to you, but I have to put at least on restraint back on.” I sigh and nod. I press my left hand against the rail of the bed so she can strap it back down. “How do you feel now?”

“A lot better. It’s weird. It’s like there’s a lot of pain when it’s happening but then it fades almost instantly once whatever change is going on has been completed.”

“Well, that’s a good thing,” Jenny states. “Less pain, right?”

I nod. Our conversation is interrupted when the scientist walks in, along with two others. One is a girl who looks a little older than Jenny, her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun, and the other is the teenaged boy from before. The woman pushes a gurney into the room, the sight of it making me shudder. _What now?_

“Dr. Auldon, sir, is there something that you need?” Jenny asks.

“Yes,” The man replies. He nods to the woman. “Put her under and get her loaded up.”

The woman approaches me and preps a syringe. A sedative, I’d presume. She doesn’t bother making eye contact as she injects the needle’s contents into my arm. My restraints are removed and I'm forced to sit up. My limbs grow heavy and limp. My arms are forced into the sleeves of a robe. It’s Jenny that picks me up afterwards, but by this point, my vision is hazy. I think my head hits her shoulder, but I don’t know for sure.

 

***

The lights seem harsher and I squint while my eyes adjust.

“Hey,” Jenny greets. “Have a nice nap?”

“No,” I groan. “What did they want this time?”

“To alter your appearance. They didn’t want to risk someone recognizing you. Don’t worry, it’s nothing too extensive like surgical adjustments or anything. Here, sit up and I’ll show you,” Jenny offers. It’s then that I realize my hands aren’t tied to the bars of the bed. I sit up and instantly realize two differences. My hair is longer. It once fell to the bottom of my shoulder blades, but now it brushes the skin of my hips. The other difference is its color. What used to be a light, brownish-blonde, is now a dark oak color. My purple highlight is gone too.

“Oh,” I say. Jenny offers me a small hand mirror. I hesitate before taking it. My eyebrows have been dyed and plucked into slim lines. I’m surprised to find my eyes the same; I was expecting contacts or something to change the color. The freckles are new though. Three or four uneven rows of them outline the bottom of my eyes, thinning out to sprinkle across the top of my nose. While the overall effect doesn’t look bad, it also no longer resembles my face. Even someone who saw me every day would be hard-pressed to recognize me now.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you have awful timing,” Jenny says.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

She glances at her watch. “In less than a minute they’re returning to give you those needles,” she breaks off in a yawn. “I was hoping you’d sleep right through, but clearly not. Though you did sleep through the growth of your chest scales, so that’s something,” she says.

“Really? Do they have a color?” I ask.

“No. Just a skin tone. It’s paler than your actual color, but you are very tan, so I’d imagine it was your skin tone when you were born. I’d suggest the same shade your skin returns to in the winter when you spend less time in the sun, but there isn’t much of a winter in Australia is there?”

“No, there isn't.” I jump at the sound of the door opening. I’m really starting to hate that sound because more often than not, something bad often follows. The man who did the needles last time has returned. Three syringes contain the same murky yellow liquid as before. Spinal fluid. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have that extracted. I hope they put the mermaid to sleep when they do it, though part of me seriously doubts it. One detail about the needles sticks out.

“Those points are a lot longer than the last ones.”

Jenny squeezes my hand. “They go in a lot further,” she explains. “Now come on, lie down on your side, facing away from us.” I lie back and roll over, no point resisting. I hate the feeling of rolling my feet, which are fused together from the ankles down, and the tips flop about like paper.

The needle is inserted quickly, at the base of my spine, and the immediate and unbearable pain steals a scream from me. It didn’t hurt this bad last time. Grinding my teeth helps keep back a scream as the second one goes into the middle of my back, only a whimper escapes. The final needle is put into the base of my neck, and this one hurts the most. It also scares me. As he’s pushing it in, I can imagine the tip managing to protrude from my throat. It doesn’t, obviously, and it’s all over in a matter of seconds. Those seconds, however, are enough to leave me shaking.

“Roll onto your back,” Jenny requests. I shake my head, afraid to put my weight on my throbbing spine. “Yes, come on now.” She tugs on my arm, forcing me to obey. “Now bring your knees to your chest.” Again, she ‘assists’ in making sure I follow her command. I hug my knees, but manage to avoid looking at my feet.

“What are you doing?” I ask. My question goes unanswered. There’s a lot of rustling. Jenny scoops me up and lays me down on the floor. My hips down, hit something cold and wet.

“Stretch out now,” Jenny requests. I do and my legs touch the same cold gel like substance. The wax paper, or whatever the stuff is on, is wrapped tightly around my hips and legs down to my ankles. Then a blanket is pulled over top and everything is belted down with three different straps to hold it in place. I'm placed back on the bed and the man leaves.

“Jenny, what’s this for?” I ask again.

“It’s to keep your legs protected and hydrated. The needles trigger the tail. It should only be a couple of minutes before your legs start to merge. But because the tail will be very new, until the scales grow the exposed skin will be very weak. This stuff will help protect it because it will tear easily otherwise. It’s also to force your legs together to make the change a little faster. This is supposed to be the longest and most painful part of the change, so brace yourself.”

I swallow the painfully large lump forming in the back of my throat. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You have to, there’s no turning back now. No stopping it.”

“I know. How long did you say that I had before it starts?”

Jenny glances at her watch again. “It could start any second now, but it might still take a few minutes.”

No sooner than the words leave her mouth, I feel it start. My legs go completely limp and numb, before an intense pins and needles sensation shoots through the appendages. I wince slightly, though if this is all I'm going to feel, I'll be really grateful. Something tells me this is only the beginning though.

“Are you alright?” Jenny asks.

A door opens. The door to the conjoining room behind the mirror. Dr. Auldon pokes his head out. “Miss Barnes,” he calls gruffly. “In here now!”

Jenny sighs and squeezes my hand. “Stay strong. Hopefully I can come back out once I find out what he wants,” she murmurs quietly. Then she turns and follows the scientist into the other room. He closes the door, leaving me alone. Well, not totally alone, I know they’re watching me; but on my own through this. I know he won’t let Jenny come back in. I resign myself to the next couple of, likely very painful, hours. The pins and needles sensation grows stronger, but it’s not totally unbearable and I start to relax a little. I can handle this. Then suddenly it’s like someone has stabbed a knife into both of my legs, just above the ankles and slices right up both my limbs. I scream. The feeling comes again, stretching the incision. I would believe it just a sensation, except for the warm liquid running down my legs. I’m bleeding. My legs are actually tearing open. And the pain is excruciating. I scream again as the burning comes. It feels like flames are licking their way up my legs, consuming them like dried timber. My hips buck as my body begins to convulse. Someone enters the room then. He holds me down while another man straps me down. My head, shoulders, arms, lower stomach, and my feet just below the ankles, are belted down by leather straps that render me incapable of almost any movement. I curl my fingers into tight fists and shriek. My pain falls on deaf ears as the two, with their task completed, leave me alone in the room once more.

 

***

I don’t know how long it goes on, feels like hours, but the pain continues to grow worse. I can’t, however much I want to, stop screaming. I’ve rubbed my throat raw and even started coughing up blood earlier. Being unable to sit up, I almost choked on the blood and had to swallow it before I did. I know I started pleading too, begging them to make it stop, but my pleas went ignored so I eventually gave up. I can’t really differentiate my legs anymore and I know they’ve become one limb. It makes me wonder why there’s still incredible pain, but I soon get my answer. The outside may have finished forming, but all new bones and muscles are growing inside, old ones melting away. I feel my already sore spine begin to lengthen and extend a little ways down the tail, new muscles and nerves stitching themselves together. It’s immensely painful and I scream again, hating the sound.  Finally, after what seems like eternity, I fall limp and welcome the pleasant abyss that comes with unconsciousness.


	4. Meeting a Mermaid

A slight, stinging pain; like a bee sting, all over wakes me up. Compared to earlier, this is nothing and it’s more of a surface pain than the deep burning of the gills and tail. I’m assuming it’s the scales, but I'm unable to lift my head to check. Not that I want to.

“That should be the last of them,” Jenny comments. I jump, a startled gasp escaping me. I didn’t know she was in here.

“The last of what?”

“Your scales sweetie. You’re a little late; your tail took longer than expected. You were supposed to be done around eleven. It’s two-thirty. But it looks like that’s the last of them coming in now. How are you feeling?”

“Awful. Tired. Sore. Like I'm going to be sick,” I mutter. The only bright side is that she’s right and the immediate pain fades, leaving me battered and sore, but wholly unharmed.

“I know, I'm sorry… oh. Oh, I didn’t know they did that!” She exclaims.

“What?” I ask, panicked.

“Your scales, even the ones on your chest; they used to be colorless, but when your tail stopped growing them, color bled into all of them and into your fin as well. It’s a really pretty-”

“Don’t tell me,” I interrupt. “I don’t want to know.”

“It’s high time you came to terms with all of this. You have no choice now,” Jenny states as she begins releasing me from all the restraints. “Dr. Auldon will be here any minute to take you to a tank.” She helps me sit up and forces my head to look down. I don’t bother closing my eyes, and am shocked by what I see. The tail looks surreal. It’s longer than what my legs were and lacks any definitive joints. My knees are gone. The fin isn’t two separate tailfins like in cartoons, but one large fluke of fish fin. The tips are long, thin, and curl inwards slightly. The scales gleam and shimmer. They are a rich amethyst color. The fin is lighter and brighter, more of an electric purple, with lavender veins running through it. The scales on my chest could almost resemble a sleeveless top. The straight band of them run just below my collarbone and taper off under my arms. They extend midway down my ribcage and are very effective at preserving modesty. To be honest, everything I was once worried about being visible is now hidden and I'm not even sure if it exists in the same manner anymore. I swallow the lump in my throat.

“How do you even work this thing?” I ask.

“You’ll have plenty of time to figure it out,” Jenny states. “You can swim right?”

“Yeah, of course, but that was with legs. I’ve never been especially great at dolphin kick and somehow I can’t see this being the same thing either.”

“No I imagine that it would be a little more difficult. Maybe instinct will kick in once you’re in the water.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Jenny shrugs. “I doubt you’ll be left unattended in the beginning. Besides, you’ll have a teacher.”

“What if she doesn’t like me?” I inquire. “Would she attack me? If she figures out that I'm not really a mermaid?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know very much about her at all really.”

“That doesn’t really reassure me,” I reply. “I mean, what if-”

“I think that’s enough chit chat,” Dr. Auldon sneers, cutting me off and startling me. He and his goons have returned, another gurney is pushed by a man I haven’t seen before. “Miss Barnes, have you nothing better to do than sit around and talk to fish? And you,” Dr. Auldon’s gaze whips to me. “Don’t make me regret not having your vocal cords removed.” I bite my lip, but don’t reply. It would only get me into trouble. He nods. “Better. Miss Barnes, if you would be so kind as to get the creature loaded up, we’re ready to begin.”

“Of course,” Jenny forces a smile. She fixes me an apologetic look before picking me up. My tail hangs limply as she sets me down on the gurney. I’m still not really sure how to move it. Jenny pushes a hand against my collarbone and I lie back, not wanting to get either of us into trouble. My arms are restrained at the elbows and more restraints are placed at the base of my tailfin and across my hips.

 _Where do they expect me to go?_ Once I’ve been deemed immobile, the man who brought the gurney in pushes me out of the room. Dr. Auldon and Jenny follow.

“I thought that your experiments always resulted in a colorless tail and fin,” the unknown scientist comments. “Did you inject color under the scales or something?”

“We were going to, the tail was going to be green, but then this happened. I see no point in changing it now, the purple suits it fine.”

“Really? Well that’s fascinating. I wonder if it’s the consciousness of the girl’s mind that allowed for color. Your other human test subjects were all minimal brain wave coma patients, correct?”

“Yes, I suppose that is a possibility. Though I’m uncertain of why the color didn’t turn out the same as your mermaid.”

“Perhaps color and fin shape are not strictly genetic. They could be randomized features dependent on the omega gene.”

“It’s possible.”

“The omega gene?” Jenny asks. “What’s that?”

“A unique gene that these creatures possess. You see, most genetic hybrids are very unstable creations and most changes can only occur if the DNA is grafted onto a subject in the early stages of life when they are nothing more than a fertilized ovum. The reason we are able to graft mermaid DNA onto a grown host is because of the omega gene. So far they are the only species we’ve found to have it. It is a very submissive cell. So much so that no host body ever rejects it, but once inside and secure, it takes over. Dominates the host’s own genetic code and forces the mermaid genetics onto the host, triggering the change. It leaves no lasting damage to the host however and strives for the organism to survive and complete the transformation successfully. It is a massive discovery,” Dr. Auldon explains.

“Indeed,” the other scientist agrees. “And I am fascinated by your success with this subject.” His hands brush over my scales. “Very authentic. I doubt even another mermaid could tell the difference just by looking at her.” He presses his fingers into the side of my neck. Instead of being mildly uncomfortable, the motion is incredibly painful and I wince. It must be because of the gills. They must be very sensitive. One glance at the scientist tells me that he knows that and is trying to cause me pain. He grins and pushes harder. I whimper. “I don’t suppose you’d allow me a look inside her would you?”

Dr. Auldon grabs his hand and pulls it away from my neck. “Dr. Patron, you know full well that the mermaids are both falling under my care when the new tank is fully equipped. Until then, you are free to continue to study your own as long as she’s returned to the holding tank afterwards, but I would caution you to keep your hands to yourself when it comes to my specimen. She is not for public study.”

Gratitude sweeps through me at the kind gesture of protection, but it’s dashed when Dr. Auldon glares at me. He didn’t do it to protect me, he did it in an act of possessiveness and as an opportunity to show dominance towards the other scientist.

Dr. Patron grins, the sadistic gleam in his eyes makes me shudder. “Of course. I presume that the real thing is better than a copy anyways and I'll have to be sure to make the most of my time left with the little devilfish.”

 _The other mermaid._ I realize, remembering the past conversation. _He’s in charge of her._ Knowing how he had tried to hurt me, with no provocation, and how happy he seemed while doing it, I instantly feel sorry for the mermaid. And Dr. Auldon had said that she had been here for six years, I wonder if she’s been Dr. Patron’s charge the whole time. I'm not given a chance to ponder it further because my attention is drawn to the doors that my gurney is pushed through. They lead into a very large, very tall room. Two huge identical cubed tanks stand attached to one another, but clearly separate boxes. The room has several large cranes probably used for moving heavy objects and animals around, as well as a bunch of different computers and machinery. I don’t want to know what any of it is for. The other mermaid is in the left tank. I’m not given the chance to see her enough to even describe her, only know that it’s too big and skinny for a regular fish and not proportioned to be a dolphin. She’s torn from my line of sight when the gurney is quickly spun around. There’s a man operating some of the machinery and with a loud cranking noise, one of the cranes lowers a green sling. The kind that are used to move dolphins and porpoises in and out of the water, except this one lacks the holes for the pectoral fins. I'm unstrapped from the gurney and placed into the sling. Conversation continues around me as I'm fitted into the sling and it’s prepped and checked.

“So have you decided on a stage name for the mermaid,” Dr. Auldon asks. “She’s your charge so it’s your decision as long as it appeals to the crowds.”

“I was considering Suzie. I had a dog named Suzie. Only creature I’ve ever been close to. What about for this one?”

“My team has been debating names, but I’ve decided on Bailey. I’ve always liked the name and it’s my niece’s daughter’s, name, so I think she’d like that.”

“Mhm.”

 _Bailey._ I mull the name over. It could be worse, but I'm still not happy about the decision being made for me. Without warning the sling is lifted into the air. It’s a very disorienting feeling, being this high in the air with nothing holding me up but some fabric. I’m forced to flop around with the slight jerking of the sling as there’s nothing to use to straighten myself out and keep my balance. Too late I remember that they haven’t taught me to swim or how to use my gills. Panic grips my heart as there’s a click and the one side of the sling is released from the crane’s hold and I plummet down into the tank below. I hit the water on my side with a splash and sink. I just managed to fill my lungs before my head went under and I'm grateful for it now. I desperately try to propel myself to the surface, but the tail is heavy and I can’t get it to work enough to help me.

“Is she going to be okay in there?” Jenny asks. “What if she can’t use her gills?”

“Instinct will kick in,” Dr. Auldon states.

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then she hasn’t been successfully changed and we find a new subject,” Dr. Patron states, his voice full of indifference. I continue to struggle without success, hurt that my life means so little to them.

“What about the other mermaid? Would she attack her? Can she jump the wall of the tank?”

Dr. Patron snorts. “I doubt the stupid beast knows how to jump. Being in a tank this large is a luxury for her. She’s being spoiled and she doesn’t deserve it.”

“I really think we should get Kat-Bailey out of there, she doesn’t look so good,” Jenny says.

She’s right. My lungs are screaming for oxygen and I haven’t been able to move from the floor of the tank. I hear a splash and Jenny shrieks and cries out, “I thought you said she wouldn’t jump!” Her words concern me and suddenly a thin pair of arms are wrapped around my waist.

The mermaid’s tail presses down on my own and she squeezes my stomach, forcing out the last few precious bubbles of oxygen that I have left. I futilely try to struggle as she attempts to drown me faster. But then her hands move to my neck, scratching lightly over the skin. I feel something pull away and suddenly I can breathe again. A hand is pressed over my mouth and nose to prevent me from inhaling. I'm grateful for it because otherwise I’d be choking on water.

I turn and come face to face with the other mermaid. Her wide eyes are full of concern. The vibrant shade of crystal blue makes her eyes look bigger than they really are. Her hair is a soft, wet sand shade of brown and falls down past her waist. Suddenly the hair extensions make sense, they wanted us to look alike in design. Her scales are a rich sapphire color and her fin is more of an ocean blue. She has no visible veins in her fin, but there are two symmetrical navy blue circles in the middle, with smaller white circles within those. Her fin is similar to mine, with the fluke-like shape of fin, but the tips of her tailfin are shorter and more rounded. Hers isn't as wide as mine, but it is longer by an inch or two. She’s a few years younger than me, probably between ten and fourteen years old. Her chest scales seem to have just started growing in because she only has a few rows of them, tiny and slightly dull, as though they haven’t come all the way in yet.

She hesitantly moves her hand away from my face and backs away, her gaze staring at the ground. She glances up at me shyly before returning her gaze to the floor. I continue to watch her. The way her fin ripples slightly, barely moving as it keeps her upright. She looks meant for the water, perfectly capable of moving around. I can’t help but reach out to attempt to touch her, to make sure she’s really there. She shies away from my hand.

 _She’s afraid of me._ I realize. It’s then that I realize what it has been like for her. No one to trust. She’s been here for years and I doubt anyone has shown her any kindness. I look like the same species, technically I am now, yet she’s still afraid I'm going to try and hurt her. I turn to stare at the people behind the glass. My gaze trains on the scientist who did this to her, who took pleasure in hurting her. I notice her following my gaze. She bares her fangs and a hiss rings out through the water. Then she turns and swims to the far side of the tank, her back to the people staring in at us. I easily point out the brownish-green bruises that run the length of her spine. They were probably made from the extraction of her spinal fluid. I want to go over to her and give her a hug, but something tells me that would only frighten her, so I decide to keep my distance. Not that I can go anywhere anyways. I attempt to move my tail in the same way I saw her do it, but I have little success.

My efforts clearly don’t go unnoticed because she approaches me again, more slowly this time, and grabs my arm. She pulls me up and takes a hold of my fin, moving it back and forth so I can get a feel of it. Her eyes never leave mine, constantly checking and searching, clearly making sure that her actions are okay and I'm not going to attack her. I don’t understand the fear though. She seems to hate Dr. Patron and has no problem hissing at him, so why is she afraid of me? I look deep into her eyes and see her intelligence. See the hope behind the fear and understand. She’s afraid of me because I'm older, I'm bigger, but also because she’s been alone for so long that she’s afraid to upset me. Afraid I might hate her, hurt her, and ignore her like everyone else. She’s afraid of me in the same way I'm afraid of her.

She releases my fin and I continue to move it. She nods, satisfied and carefully touches my hips. She kicks her tail, her hips moving too and I realize her point. My hips are still the same, so I have no problem completing this task. I combine the two movements but I don’t really get anywhere. So she takes a hold of my tail again, bends it at a point I wouldn’t guess it could bend. It’s midway down the tail, lower than where my knees would be if I still had them. She continues to bend it like she did with my fin. It isn’t long before I can go up and, by throwing my weight forward into a flip, down. She helps me get into a more horizontal position and then I can go left and right without too much difficulty. Her fin brushes mine as she falls into place next to me, keeping pace with my slow stroke. Every time she moves, my fin instinctively follows her movements. It isn’t long before I can easily change direction and swim laps around the tank. I attempt to hug her, silently thank her, but she just shies away again and eventually jumps the barrier back into her own tank. I decide she wants time to herself and I leave her alone, continuing to practice on my own.

 **I** swim a long time in a daze, lost in thought. And a soft knocking on the tank is what brings my attention back to reality. Jenny is standing on the other side of the glass. She points to a ladder that leads to a stand that overlooks both tanks, then point to the surface. She probably doesn’t think I can hear her. I nod and head towards the platform. She meets me up there.

“You’re looking pretty good out there,” she comments. “Adjusting okay?” I chew my lip and don’t answer. “It’s okay, no one else is in here, you won’t get into trouble. Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” I agree. “What’s for dinner?”

“Are you fond of sushi?”

“Not really,” I say. “Why.”

“I'm just following protocol. They’ve set you on a specific seafood diet,” She says as she pulls out a whole capelin from the tin bucket she’s carrying. I eye the fish with disgust. Scales and all, this fish looks recently dead and I don’t want it in my mouth. My stomach growls in complaint. I haven’t eaten in almost four days and IV supplements don’t do a thing to sate hunger. She tosses me the fish. “Sorry. You can have kelp too if you want it.” She pulls out some long, dark green tendrils and offers it to me. I hesitantly grab them. Then I hold up the fish.

“I don’t even know how to clean a fish. Can I eat the scales?”

“I’d assume so,” Jenny says. “Look if you want to forgo the fish tonight, you can, but that makes the kelp your dinner. Think carefully. You only get fed once a day in the evening. Either way, you will need to learn to like the fish, you need more nutrients than what kelp can offer.”

I sigh and reluctantly bite into the fish. The scales are crunchy and the flesh is a little goopy, but it doesn’t taste as bad as I thought. I take another bite, hunger making me gulp it down. Within seconds my fangs have sheared the meat off the, now clean, bones of the fish. All that remains is the head and tailfin. I dump it into the bucket and Jenny offers me another fish. I eat it just as fast as the other and gulp down the kelp. The slimy plant has a salty taste that is actually kind of pleasant. Jenny offers me a third and final fish.

The ladder shakes slightly as Dr. Patron ascends. He peers into the bucket at the leftover fish bones. “You using those?” he demands.

Jenny shakes her head. “No, why?”

Dr. Patron grins. “Perfect. Looks like you can have dinner after all, you stupid fish,” he calls out. “You can thank the handler for being kind enough to share.” He grabs the fish bones, void of any meat except for the head and fins, and tosses them into the other tank.

“Oh, sir, you can't seriously mean for that to be all you’re going to feed her!” Jenny exclaims.

“She’s being punished,” the man says, shrugging. “If you want to give her the bones of the other one after, fine, but nothing more.” I glare at him, my eyes following him as he climbs pack down the ladder, types something into the panel that I think controls the tank settings, and then walks away. Jenny shakes her head and sighs.

“Poor little girl. I’ll make sure she’s fed properly when you're both moved to the new tank. You both become my charges then. Try and save her some extra meat on that one okay?”

I nod. “Don’t worry, I will.”

Jenny nods and then climbs down the ladder and walks away, turning out the lights as she does.

I quickly learn that I can see in the dark. I watch the young mermaid as she tears at the fish carcass, trying to pull any meat she can from it. Her ribs jut out and she’s painfully thin. I know this isn’t the first time she’s been given little to no food. The real question is how long has it been since she had a proper meal? Without a second thought I throw the final fish over into the other tank. It’s the best I can do, but hopefully it will fill her belly a little more. I curl up at the bottom of the tank and watch her a little, before dozing off.

 **A** while later, I wake with a start. It’s clearly very late and everything is quiet. What woke me up? My eyes fall on the girl in the other tank. She’s squished herself into a corner and is curled into a very tight ball. Her whole body is shaking. I become worried that she might be having a minor seizure or something. I hurry to the surface and leap as high as I can. I actually manage to clear the glass and splash down into the other tank. As soon as I hit the water, I discover the source of the problem. The water is freezing, far colder than the water in my own tank. That bastard must have turned the heat settings way down.

 _If it’s so cold, why didn’t she just come into mine?_ I stare at her shivering form. She must still be afraid of me. She probably didn’t want to upset me by invading my space. That and she may think she’ll get into trouble with the scientists for coming into my tank. She probably would. I'm probably going to, but I'll take my chances. I dive and lie down beside her. She wakes up, clearly startled and tries to swim off. I pull her back down and curl around her, wrapping my arms around her thin waist to try to share my body heat with her. Her shivering lessens a little, but she still tries to pull away. I hug her, but let her go only seconds later. She rolls over to face me and I smile at her, before opening my arms again. If we are going to share a tank, she should know that I want to be her friend. She hesitates, but lies back down. She cuddles closer to me and quickly falls back asleep. I stroke her silky hair. It doesn’t take long for me to start thinking of her as a little sister. She doesn’t deserve to be here. No matter what it takes; I'll see her to freedom even if it costs me mine, permanently.


	5. Luna

_The beach is empty. All the tourists have likely gone back to their hotels for the night; locals know not to be out because of the snakes and other nightly beach predators. However, it isn’t that dark yet and I’m not quite ready to return home. The sun is barely visible above the water line, staining the sky a deep magenta and providing just enough light to see by. No doubt Sophie will be angry if I'm late, I promised not to be long. But the sand feels so good beneath my toes, warm but not scorching like during the day, and I'm reluctant to leave. I walk along the waterline, far enough to be out of the water, but close enough for the waves to brush my skin. Further out, a pair of dolphins break the surface and some sea birds fly low against the water in hopes of catching their dinner. Everything is peaceful. I dig my toes into the sand and sigh. It’s moments like these that I wish would last forever. They never do, unfortunately, and just as I turn to head home before Sophie begins to panic, the earth begins to shake. I stumble and fall to my knees. The ground around me begins to crack and crumble, sand spilling into a widening crevice. I stand shakily, only to be thrown backwards. I scrape at loose sand, my legs kicking freely in an attempt to gain a hold to pull myself out. What is going on? I’m familiar with earthquakes and it is not actually possible for the earth to split open like this. I slip on the sand, fall deeper until my fingers are just barely holding me up._

_A dream. I realize. It makes sense. At least I certainly hope it is. Without much other choice, I let go of the edge and allow myself to fall._

My eyes snap open. I'm underwater. The realization startles me before I remember where I am and relax. That’s the first time I’ve ever had a dream and been able to realize, while in it, that I am dreaming. The dream itself was strange too, I don’t often dream of plummeting to my death. Though, I suppose it mirrors my life lately. Life was good, I was happy, just like on that beach. However, everything changed when I woke up here. It was like an earthquake ravaged through everything good. Now there’s no way back to my old life. In a way, I suppose I did fall to my death. Or at least Katie did.

“Bailey,” I whisper the name to myself. It seems foreign. I can’t picture myself answering to it. I sigh. There’s no point worrying about it. I doubt there are going to be people addressing me directly very often.

The young mermaid suddenly shifts in her sleep, startling me. I’d forgotten she was there, still pressed against me. She stretches out, the tips of her fin curl in, then flick back out, and she scrunches up her nose before rolling onto her other side and falling still. I smile. She looks peaceful and content. I hope that her dreams are better than her waking world. At least that way she’ll get some happiness. Suzie. That’s what Dr. Patron had wanted to call her and I wonder if I should call her by it too. It’s not as if I know her real one. Then again, I don’t even know if she can speak or understand English. I long to talk to her and find out, but I'm afraid of spooking her. If mermaids have their own language and I start talking in a human one, she might think I am one or was raised around them. Both are true, or at least the first one used to be true, but she might not trust me if she knew the truth and I desperately want to be her friend. I don’t want to be alone and I don’t want that for her either. Eventually I'll break down and speak with her or she may speak to me, in whatever language she does know, but for now; I'm content with body language talking for me.

I glance around and nearly jump out of my skin when I see people on the other side of the glass. I had thought that we were alone. Jenny and Dr. Auldon are in the room though, Jenny is hanging back and Dr. Auldon is staring at the control panel on the side of the tank.

“Miss Barnes, why is the temperature of this tank so low?” He demands.

“I didn’t touch the settings,” Jenny replies, walking over to him. “It must have been Dr. Patron who changed it.”

“Then I wonder why they are in this tank. Both come from the south and are used to much warmer tropical temperatures. So why have they chosen to sleep in the colder water?”

“You know,” Jenny begins. “I bet the younger one was afraid to jump. Earlier it was to save Bailey, but she seems terrified to disobey. Not that I blame her. I hope it’s not too out of line, but Dr. Patron doesn’t seem like the most understanding or caring person. He seems to look for any excuse to punish her and leaving the tank he put her in seems like something that would provoke him. I bet Bailey jumped to return the favor of saving her life, by sharing her body heat with the younger one.”

“Suzie, Miss Barnes, the mermaid’s name is Suzie, and you give their intelligence far too much credit. However, they do seem to be warming up to one another much faster than I hoped and clearly the heightened glass does little to separate them. I believe we are free to open the grate once we get this tank’s temperature back to normal. Get on that,” he orders. His words intrigue me and I look around. Sure enough there is a barred gate joining the two tanks together, but it appears to be sealed so that there can be two different water types and or temperatures. I watch as Jenny plays with the settings.

There’s a loud noise, like a furnace coming on, and she nods and walks away. The noise wakes the other mermaid and she jumps, clearly frightened. I wrap my arms around her and bury my nose in her hair. I give her a little squeeze in hopes of reassuring her. She pulls against me arms and I let her sit up. She turns to face me, clearly surprised that I'm still here. I offer her a smile, one that she hesitantly returns. The corners of her mouth lift, and while it’s barely a smile, it’s probably the closest I'm going to get. She rubs at her arms, but at least she isn't shivering anymore and the temperature seems to be getting warmer now.

A shrill whistle makes me look up. I can see Jenny’s reflection on the water. I push off the ground and begin to swim up. My arm is grabbed and I'm pulled back down. The mermaid snorts and shakes her head, her eyes wide. She almost seems to be begging me not to go up there. She probably doesn’t realize that Jenny won’t hurt her. I wave an arm in an attempt to get her to follow me. She shakes her head again and lowers herself down against the floor. She tugs on my wrist in a last attempt to get me to stay. I squeeze her shoulder and offer her another smile before I head to the surface. I shake water from my eyes when I break the surface of the water. Jenny kneels down to my height. “Good morning,” she greets. “Dr. Auldon left, you're okay. So how come you're over here?”

“She looked really cold,” I whisper, not wanting the other mermaid to hear me speaking a human language. “I didn’t want her to freeze.”

“I thought so. Is the water warming up any?”

I nod. “Uh-huh.”

“Good. I'm going to raise the gate and join the two tanks so you don’t have to jump.”

“I know; I heard you talking to Dr. Auldon about it.”

“You could hear us?” Jenny asks. “The glass is really thick; I didn’t think you’d be able to hear anything.”

“Well then mermaids must have much better hearing than people because I could hear you clearly.”

“Why are you whispering? No one is in here, you won’t get into trouble.”

“I know, but I don’t want her to hear. I'm worried that if I talk to her, she might be freaked out. She seems to be really afraid of people. I can’t imagine what Dr. Patron did to her. But I don’t want her to think she can’t trust me because I speak a human language,” I explain.

“Hmm. She is intelligent then?”

I nod. “Definitely.”

“Has she shown any signs that she understands English?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, but she hasn’t attempted to speak it.”

“Has she spoken in any other language? Maybe mermaids have their own,” Jenny suggests.

“No. She hasn’t made a sound at all,” I say. “But if she does have her own language, do you think I will be able to understand her? A language barrier would be hard to overcome,” I admit.

“I don’t know, but I'm sure you’d figure it out if you can’t. Look, I called you up here to show you this.” She nudges a green plastic basket. It looks like it’s full of aquatic toys. I note a couple of balls, a noodle, a toy boat, some sink and retrieve toys, along with some other things. “Some of it is a little young for you, but I’d imagine it’s better than nothing. Besides, I don’t think your friend often gets to be in a tank this big, and I doubt she’s ever allowed to play with anything. I was thinking that maybe you could show her some of this stuff and play with her. Give her something to do so that she isn't so down. She looks really sad,” Jenny explains.

I nod. “I will. Thank you, no one else would have bothered.”

She smiles. “Just put everything back when you’re done,” she says. I watch her leave before pulling the basket closer and rummaging around inside.

I scoop up an armful of chosen toys and dive back down. I hover, midway through the tank, above her and drop the submersible toys around her. A golf ball, a weighted toy shark, a plastic starfish, and a rubber ring, the kind you through around and try to catch that’s just big enough to fit over your wrist, all fall in a circle around her. Startled, she looks around and then up. I smile at her and dive deeper so I can rest at the bottom of the tank with her. She hesitantly reaches out and touches the shark. When it doesn’t move, she scoops it up and begins to examine it. I pick up the orange ring and set it on her head. She glances at me with a confused look. As she moves, the ring slides off her head and into her lap. She jumps and stares at the object. Dropping the shark, she picks up the new toy and looks at it closely. A moment later she holds it up to me and tilts her head. I smile and take her arm, pulling her to the surface. Panic crosses her features, but she does not attempt to pull away from me either. When we break the surface, she glances around and relaxes. The room is empty. I toss the ring up into the air and catch it, before doing it again. Her eyes widen as she watches it spin through the air. I catch it again and offer it to her. She takes it and hesitantly tosses it. The ring barely leaves her hand, but she seems to get more confidence, throwing it higher and higher. She throws it again and I leap out of the water, catch the ring, and splash back down behind her. She spins to face me and I hold it out. When she goes to take it, I pull my arm back. I do it again and then wave the ring around teasingly. She huffs and lunges for it. I dive down, determined to win the game of keep away. What I didn’t expect was for her to be so fast. Within seconds she has her arms around me and is reaching for the ring. I twist and use my free hand to tickle her sides. A stream of bubbles leaves her nose and she pulls back. I speed ahead again. It isn't long before she gives chase.

She eventually pins me against the floor and claims her prize. She seems happy, but for some reason her eyes widen and she backs off, instantly looking scared and sad again. I frown.

 _Does she think I'm mad because she got it?_ Maybe it was when she pinned me. Either way, I'm certain that in her eyes, she’s done something wrong. I wrap her in a hug. _It’s okay. I’m never going to hurt you or freak out at you for anything._ I hesitate to actually speak the words though. The hug will have to do for now. It works though and she relaxes. The second her guard is down, I snatch the ring and take off again, sticking my tongue out at her as I swim off. She gives chase again and gets a hold of the ring faster this time. She looks back at me, a genuine smile on her face. She’s lit up with happiness, a joy she probably hasn’t felt in a long time. That smile makes me never want to stop playing with her, never want to do anything that would make it slip. So I smile back and attempt to chase her down.

 

 **Later,** once we’ve exhausted ourselves and the toys have been put back in the basket, we simply lie on the floor. My tail is stretched out and her head is resting on it. I can feel her finger tracing the pattern of my scales. It tickles, badly, but I don’t want to disturb her. Eventually I can’t take it anymore and I run my fingers through her hair, even as I shudder. She stops and glances up at me. I offer her a smile and she returns it. I take a deep breath and gather my courage. I’ll just have to continue to show her that she can trust me. I sit up a little bit and pull her closer. I rub her scalp with my fingers and she instantly relaxes.

“I’m glad I met you,” I whisper as I bury my nose in her hair. I can’t actually smell underwater like I can above it, but the water carries scents that I can almost sense. I don’t understand how, but I can determine scents and her hair smells good. I feel her stiffen as I speak. “Please don’t ever be afraid of me, I'm never, ever going to hurt you. Look, I need to tell you something. I'm not who you probably think I am. I'm not a mermaid. I was born human. The scientists kidnapped me too, just like they did to you. They used your DNA to make me like you. I don’t know if you can understand English, but I want you to know that I want to be your friend.” I hug her tightly and hope that she doesn’t pull away. She remains frozen in place for a while before she twists in my grip and hugs me back, burying her nose in the crook of my neck. I know that now would be the time to ask. I pull her away from me, hold her at arm’s length, and meet her gaze. “Can you understand me?”

She stares into my eyes before directing her gaze to her lap. She gives me the tiniest of nods. Relief floods me and I hug her again.

“So do mermaids have their own language?” she shakes her head. “They speak English too?” I get a nod. “Well that makes things a little easier. What’s your name?” I ask her. She doesn’t respond. I hesitate. “Do mermaids have names?” She nods. I frown, then realize. “Is it that you have been here so long that you’ve forgotten it?” I ask. Again I get a nod. “Oh. I'm sorry. Do you maybe want to pick out a new one?” I get a shrug. “Are you okay?” I ask. “You haven’t said a word. Why won't you talk to me?”

She meets my gaze, taps on her throat, and shakes her head.

“You can’t,” I whisper. “You can’t speak, you're mute.” She nods again and hangs her head. I catch her chin and bring her gaze back to mine. “You know, when I was younger, I had a friend who was deaf, she couldn’t hear, and our other friend, Abby, and I learned sign language so we could speak to her. Sign language was designed for people who couldn’t hear or speak, it’s like talking with your hands,” I explain, demonstrating the sign to each word I say. “If you want, I can teach you so you have a form of communication.”

Hope shines in her eyes and she nods. She hugs me tightly.

“Alright. Tomorrow, I'll start teaching you as much as I can, okay? For now, since you can’t remember yours, you need a name. Would you be okay with picking a new one? Something I can call you by. If you ever remember yours or we meet someone who used to know you, than you can go back to your old one.”

She nods.

“Do you have anything in mind?” She shakes her head. “Okay, do you want me to give you some suggestions?” She pauses for a moment. Then she shakes her head and simply points to me. “You want me to just pick?” I ask, wondering why she’d want that. She nods and cuddles into me again. I stare at her, long and hard. What would be a name she might like? I scan over every little detail of her. Her vivid sapphire scales and ocean fin, with its deep navy spots. They’re perfectly symmetrical, like wings on a butterfly, and within each sits a bright white circle, like a false eye, that almost seem to glow as the water shimmers against her fin. It’s then that an idea pops into my head. “What do you think of Luna?” I suggest.

She sits up at stares at me, her eyes wide and far away. I wonder what she’s thinking. Suddenly a grin spreads across her face and she nods. She tackles me into another hug and I laugh and hug her back.

“I’ve always wanted a little sister,” I tell her. I realize it’s true. I’ve only known her for a day, but already I consider her family. The family I choose to love. And I know I’d do just about anything for her.


	6. It's Never Just Fun and Games

“So how old are you?” I ask. Luna glances up at me, sadness sparkling in her blue irises. She just shrugs. “Let me rephrase, how old were you when… you know.” She holds up six fingers. I feel my heart clench. No one should have gone through this alone, especially at such a young age. “Well the scientists said that you’ve been here for about six years,” I say. “So I guess that makes you twelve.”

She nods, but stares at her hands. I guess the information wouldn’t really make her happy, to know that she’s literally spent half her life here. I wrap an arm around her shoulders.

“It’ll be okay,” I tell her. “We’ll figure out a way out of here. No matter what it takes, okay?”

She meets my gazes and smiles a little, nodding her head.

“Now come on, let’s keep working on your signs. You’ve gotten much better. You’ll be fluent in no time at this rate,” I tell her. It’s true. I’ve been teaching her over the past three days and she’s a very fast learner, now capable of several sentences, questions, and responses. It helps that I give her different tasks and challenges with it. Yesterday I had her doing laps. After ten, I’d ask her a question and if she answered then I shaved five laps off her total, if she couldn’t then I added on five. I wore her out, but she got much better. Today I just settle for teaching her some new things, rather than having her memorize them.

‘I am…hungry?’ Her sign is hesitant as she tries to remember.

I nod. “Yeah, I'm getting hungry too. I wonder how far off dinner is.”

‘You got here, now I fed more often,’ Luna admits. Her grammar is bad and she’s missing some words, but I know she’ll get better with time.

“Dr. Patron doesn’t seem like he’s overly concerned with your well-being,” I reply.

Luna shakes her head. ‘He hurts badly.’

“How badly?” I ask.

“Bad. He… I do not know word,’ she breaks off to think, then slides a finger up her stomach. ‘Open.’

“He cuts you open?” I demand, showing her the proper signs.

She nods. ‘Yes. Cuts open. Hurts much.’

“You're awake? You can feel it?” She nods again. I pull her into a hug. “What he’s doing is wrong, you know that right? That it’s not okay and it’s not your fault, you don’t deserve that.”

‘Sometimes my fault,’ she replies. ‘If fight back, make mad and hurt more.’

I shake my head. “Luna, look at me. You have _every_ right to fight back against them. They should not be allowed to do that to you. Dr. Patron is a sick, twisted man and I will find a way to get you away from here, away from everyone who’s hurting you. I promise I'll never stop trying, okay?”

She nods. ‘I know. I glad you here. Glad met you.”

“I'm glad I met you too. How about we play a game?” I offer. Luna nods in agreement. “Okay, so we are going to play…” I break off and glance around the tank. She’d kill me in tag, being so much faster. Then I get an idea. I head to the surface and rummage around in the basket of toys until I find what I'm looking for. Dangling from a thin, yellow rope is a plastic whistle in the shape of a conch shell. I dive back down and hand it to her. “Put this on and we’ll play Marco Polo,” I decide. She tilts her head at me. “Marco Polo is like tag,” I tell her. Her eyes light up, she likes that game. “Except a little different. Whoever is ‘it’ closes their eyes when they’re chasing the other person. To help them find the person they’re trying to tag, the person who is ‘it’ will call out ‘Marco!’ and the other person is supposed to reply with ‘Polo’ so that the seeker can follow their voice. You can call ‘Marco’ as often as you want. In your case, blow the whistle okay?”

She nods enthusiastically and pulls the whistle over her head.

“Okay, do you want to be it first? Or do you want me too?”

She taps a finger to her chin, then points to herself. ‘I will.’

“Alright. Close your eyes, count to ten,” I order. “And be careful not to smack into the glass.” The second that her eyes close, I turn and swim away from her. I choose a corner in the other tank and hover in it. I hear the whistle a few seconds later and call out my reply.

When she gets close, I dart underneath her and swim away. However, she quickly gets good and it isn’t long before our roles are reversed.

Suddenly her whistle sounds in a very shrill pitch. She’s been much softer with it and I didn’t even call out yet. Worried, I open my eyes and glance around. Luna is near the surface, her tail most of the way out of the water and her eyes wide with panic.

I’m by her side in seconds. There are two men, whom I don’t recognize, on the platform struggling to hold Luna’s tail down and haul her out of the water. I grab both her arms and pull back with all my strength. The fear in Luna’s eyes makes me fight even harder. _What do they want?_

A thick wooden pole is dipped into the water and jabbed towards me. It smacks against my collarbone, slightly winding me, and pushes me back. The moment my grip slackens, they’re able to pull Luna from the water. I don’t bother wasting time thinking or planning as I throw myself out of the water and at the closest person I can get to. I land on his back and sink my fangs into his muscular shoulder. He hollers in pain and attempts to shake me off. I wrap my tail around his waist, squeeze, and bite down harder on his vile tasting shoulder. I growl low in my throat as I do. The other man is holding Luna down and shouting, but I'm too focused on my task to bother with processing his words.

The pain is sharp as I’m hit at the base of my skull with something hard. Dazed, I fall from the person’s back and hit the concrete of the platform with a painful thud. My vision blurs for a few seconds before I try to shake off the dizzy feeling and push myself up. A foot is planted in the middle of my still bruised spine, forcing me back down against the floor. I lash my tail and hiss angrily.

“This isn't easy,” one of the men complains. “Trying to get two of them out of a giant tank like this.”

“Luckily, that’s why we did it, to make things easier. Dr. Auldon states. He kneels down into my line of sight. “You’re becoming quite the troublemaker.” I curl my lip and snarl at him. Reason, and quite possibly intelligence have gone out the window and until Luna is safely back in the water; I doubt either of them are coming back. “Maybe this will curb some of that attitude.” He pulls out a small silver chain and holds it up for me to see. It’s very short and doesn’t look like it would fit around my neck, but the silver plate with the name _Bailey_ engraved into it tells me it’s mine. He clasps it around my neck. There’s and intense heat that singes the back of my neck. “There, that clasp isn’t coming off any time soon,” Dr. Auldon says. I twist and attempt to touch it. It’s really tight and irritating against my skin.

I'm dragged further away from the edge of the platform and am allowed to sit up. Luna is practically thrown beside me. An identical chain is around her neck, the only difference is the engraving on the silver plate. _Suzie._ She begins to pull at it, an angry hiss leaving her.

“What, you don’t like your collar?” Dr. Auldon states. “And after we worked so hard to make them for you both. How ungrateful.” There’s a sparking noise and suddenly a painful rivet of electricity is shooting through my body, it causes my muscles to spasm at the sharp pain, and steals a scream from me. Luna’s fin smacks against the floor and I know she’s being shocked too. The shock fades as quickly as it comes and leaves me shaking on the floor. Luna doesn’t look so good either. “Maybe that will teach you two to be a little less temperamental and more cooperative from now on,” Dr. Auldon warns. “Bailey, better teach that lesson to your little friend. I don’t care how, but do it, or you’ll both feel the shock. Grab them.”

I'm picked up and roughly slung over the shoulder of one of the men. The other, whom I bit, left earlier, so Luna gets to hang over this guy’s other shoulder. She bares her fangs and I'm close enough to hear the hiss building in her throat. I meet her gaze and shake my head. The hiss dies as she gives me a confused look. I shake my head again. I don’t want her to get into trouble and be shocked again. She goes limp and looks away, but I don’t miss the tears that begin to brim in her eyes. I get incredibly dizzy hanging over the man’s shoulder as he climbs, backwards, down the ladder, the floor getting closer. We’re dropped heavily onto side-by-side metal gurneys. Dr. Patron smiles at us, revealing his teeth. The sadistic gleam in his eyes makes me shudder. The man who carried us down wastes no time in strapping Luna down. Panic crosses her features and she begins to pull against the restraints. Her efforts are in vain because within seconds she’s strapped down tightly. Leather restraints run across her forehead, shoulders, wrists, elbows, hips, midway down her tail, and just before her fin. Her head is slightly turned so I'm able to see the defeated terror that gazes over her eyes as they water up. She’s not smiling now and my anger returns. She looks so pretty and innocent when she smiles, why are these vile creatures so determined to destroy that? I don’t know if it’s the new genetics and instincts in me, but I feel a much more primal rage settle over me. I growl, low in my throat and show the man my teeth... He hesitates.

“Do I have to restrain this one too?” He asks, uncertainty in his voice. It nearly brings a smile to my face. “What do we even need her for?”

“Nothing,” Dr. Patron shrugs indifferently. “I want her to watch. Now lie her on her stomach and strap her down, just once across the tail will do.”

The man approaches me and I glower at him, silently fuming. I eye the slight distance between my gurney and Luna’s wondering if I could successfully make the jump without hurting her. My distraction gives the man time to get behind me. Suddenly his hand is grabbing my hair and tearing my head back so he can flip me and strap me down. I struggle and buck against him. His hand slides on my tail and he curses. Probably cut himself. Good. Still, I'm at a disadvantage and he manages to pin my tail beneath a restraint, leaving me relatively mobile, but still secured down.

Then we're moving. Dr. Patron is pushing Luna’s gurney, which remains side-by-side with mine. I meet her gaze, but I don’t think she can see me. Her fin quivers, the tips curling with distress. Her fingers dig into the side of the gurney, her nails scratching. Upon closer inspection I notice several sets of scratches all along the rim of the gurney that is slightly too small for her as it is. The bloodstains are more prominent too. Fear and anger consume me. I know where we're going, what they are going to do to her, what they are going to make me watch. Most importantly, what they are going to make her endure. She knows already. I can see it in her eyes.

The room has grey stone walls, but harsh florescent lights. It smells strongly of disinfectant in here, enough to make me gag. Luna is pushed into the middle of the room, while my table is put against the one wall; close enough to see everything, but far enough away that I can’t interfere. A small cart is wheeled over; several different surgical tools are laid out on it. I chew the inside of my cheek and strain against the restraints. _I'm so sorry Luna, I should never have suggested a game that involved closed eyes._ I should have known better, I could have prevented it. I watch Dr. Patron slip on a pair of plastic gloves. He presses two fingers into Luna’s stomach, traces some invisible scar. “What do you think, Thomas? Should this be our opening point?”

The other man peers over Dr. Patron’s shoulder. “Hmm. What if we go lower? We haven’t spent much time looking at the tail because of how difficult it is to slice through the scales, but that new blade came in. We’ve been promised it will do the job. Why not slit the tail from waist to tip and get a proper look inside? It would be good for the records before we no longer can. You know what it will be like once the public gets their claws into these too; it’ll be all about the pretty mermaids and their wellbeing.”

Dr. Patron nods. “Yes that seems like a sufficient use of our time. Prep the sawblades, will you?” Thomas nods and walks off. I don’t bother paying attention to him. Dr. Patron picks up a thin scalpel and twirls it between his fingers before placing it flat on Luna’s stomach. I see her stiffen, fear coating her eyes. “Ah, yes, you remember this. Not today my little demon, but you’ll feel its edge again soon, I promise you that.” He picks the scalpel back up and gently traces the point over Luna’s stomach, up her arm, and over her neck. He doesn’t pierce the skin, simply torments her with it. I growl and his head whips around to stare at me. “What? You don’t like it, well what are you going to do about it?” He grabs my chin, forces me to meet his gaze. “You’re so untouched, while she’s full of hidden scars, hardly fair is it?” He presses the blade against the side of my face, allows it to cut through my skin and deeper into the flesh below. I wince and pull away from him. My blood coats the end of the knife. He pats my head. “Oh, don’t worry; I’m careful not to let it scar visibly. I just want it to hurt.” His hand moves swiftly, I don’t register it until my head is snapping to the side. “Don’t cross me. You’ll learn that quickly,” he threatens.

“Dr. Patron, it’s ready,” Thomas says.

“Excellent,” Dr. Patron says. I watch as Thomas wheels over what looks like a miniature crane or portable x-ray machine. Except instead of the weird box on the end that takes the pictures, there’s a circular blade. It’s smooth like a giant pizza cutter, with the occasional tiny nick it. With a flip of a switch the blade begins to spin, rapidly, but silently. Luna’s eyes widen and she begins to struggle again with renewed vigour. I struggle to. If I can slip my tail free maybe I can get to her and try to do something to stop this. Unfortunately all I can too is watch as the blade is lowered. It slices easily through her scales, a few broken pieces fly into the air, sapphire shards that were meant to protect, not to be severed. The process is painful, I can tell by her face. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her nose wrinkled, and her lips parted in a silent cry. Her fingers are clenched and if she weren’t held down, she’d likely be trying to jerk away. When the blade stops spinning, there’s a clean cut all the down her tail and it’s bleeding profusely. I turn away, unable to watch after they begin to stretch the incision. I can hear her nails scratching at the sides of the gurney and her teeth grinding against the pain. I start to feel sick. She’s not even a teenager yet, this shouldn’t be her life. This shouldn’t have been her life for the past six years. Tears water in my eyes. I’d take her place if they’d let me, but speaking would only get me into trouble and Dr. Auldon made it clear that he didn’t want Dr. Patron cutting me open. Something I'm grateful for, I just wish Luna could have the same courtesy.

 

 **When** I finally do glance up again, Thomas is in the middle of closing and binding Luna’s tail. Luna’s eyes are glassy and faraway, and I doubt she’s actually seeing anything right now. I wish I could reach her, hold her hand or hug her, and tell her it’s going to be okay. Offer her any comfort that I can. Once his task is finished, Thomas pushes Luna’s gurney out the door.

“Where is he taking her?” I demand. Electricity crackles through the collar around my neck and I cry out.

“Be quiet! It’s none of your concern,” Dr. Patron shouts. He grabs the handle of the gurney and pushes it swiftly down the hall and back to the room with the tanks. He leaves me there.

It’s Jenny that comes running up to me. I glance around.

“Where is she?” I ask. Jenny unbuckles the restraint on my tail and picks me up, but she doesn’t answer. “Where?” I repeat. Jenny meets my gaze.

“I don’t know, sweetie, they didn’t bring her in and I'm not scheduled to feed her for the next few days so I don’t think she’s coming back tonight,” she explains. “Now hold on tight.” She begins to climb the ladder.

“No,” I argue. “Stop, don’t take me up here, take me to her, I have to stay with her. Someone has to,” I can feel myself growing frantic. “No one there cares about her, she shouldn’t be alone. Jenny please!” I start to squirm, desperate to go back down. Jenny grabs me with one arm and pulls herself up the last rung and onto the platform.

“Calm down!” She exclaims. “She’ll be fine. They aren’t going to kill her or anything. The exhibit opens next week. Just try to get some sleep okay? You shouldn’t have had to go in there. Relax and go to sleep. Who knows, maybe I'm wrong and they’re bringing her back tonight.” She doesn’t wait for a response before she pitches me into the water. By the time I surface, she’s descended part way down the ladder. She pauses to closes and lock a thick wooden gate, dashing my hopes of attempting to follow her; not that I could have with my tail anyways.

I sink down to the bottom of the tank and lie down. I’ve gotten used to her being right beside me at night and can’t get comfortable now. I clench my hands into fists and sob. I wanted to protect her, make her feel safer, yet all I’ve done is let her down. I curl into a tight ball and drift into a fitful and broken slumber.


	7. Saying Goodbye

**Luna**

I am forced to sit up against the bars of the rail that runs around the tiny platform. I cannot help but wince as the movement causes pain to shoot down my tail. I do not know how long it has been since they opened it up, a few days probably. Whatever chemicals they give me forces me to heal fast and without scarring, but I think it makes it more painful. I glance at my tail sadly. A large line of pale, thin skin runs down the length of it where my scales were cut, the broken pieces plucked off. I wonder how long it will take for them to grow back.

The man who brought me up here returns with some more equipment that he sets down. His attention returns back to me. I attempt to give him a defiant stare, but when he grabs a fistful of my hair and tugs, I quickly wind up cowering. My head is forced back and a hand is placed under my chin. The man’s fingers push against my cheeks harshly, forcing me to open my mouth to reduce the pain. I try to pull against him, but his grip is firm and unyielding. I watch him pick up a very long clear tube. He sticks the end into my mouth and I begin to struggle. I hate it when they do this. He pushes it in further and I begin to choke on it. I cough and try to pull away, but my face is still trapped in his grip. He does not speak or even look at me as he pushes it further down my throat. I can see the little black line on the tube. He will not stop pushing it in until that line is past my lips. In the last few seconds, I give in and attempt to swallow. The tube slips down my throat and the man stops feeding it through. I try not to be sick and breathe sharply through my nose. The length of tubing is wrapped behind my ear and released. He then sticks it to my face with lots of sticky material. I watch him hook the tube up to a device and then he drops cut up pieces of fish into the opening on the top. There’s a grinding noise and then a mush begins to flow through the tube and into me.

I do not understand why I need this. I can eat just fine on my own. It is not as if they cut open my mouth, or throat, or belly. I am left alone as the man begins putting together the net sling. Two metal poles hold a sling of soft ropes in place. He attaches it to the tank and drops in into the water. I am place inside and strapped down, before left.

I glance around, looking for Katie. I spot her in the other tank. She is curled up and asleep. It must be very late or very early. Her nose scrunches up and she shifts in her sleep. I long for her to wake up and notice me. I have missed her and I want to hear her voice. She makes me happy. I wish I could call out to her.

I shift slightly and wince as the chain around my neck gets caught in the ropes. I tug it free and bring my fingers up to touch it. I hate it very much. It is tight and itchy and just another way for him to hurt me. Katie has one too and I begin to wonder if our fangs would be strong enough to cut through them. I watch her shift in her sleep again. Suddenly she sits up and glances around. When she sees me, her eyes widen and she darts towards me.

“Luna,” she says, her fingers lacing themselves between the ropes. “Are you okay?” She presses her forehead against mine. “I'm sorry, Luna, I wanted to protect you, I tried. It-”

I slip a hand through the sling to put my finger against her mouth. I shake my head. ‘I know.’

“It wasn’t enough.”

‘You could not stopped it. Not fault,’ I tell her, wishing my sentences were not so broken. ‘Thank you… for trying. It means lot. No one try help me before.’

Katie smiles and nods. She reaches through the mesh of the sling and runs her fingers through my hair. “I'm always going to try and stand up for you,” she promises. She frowns and taps on the hose in my mouth. “What’s this?”

‘Food,’ I tell her. ‘No know why need though.’ She swims around and examines the sling.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I mean, I get the sling, to help keep you from swimming and irritating the wound on your tail, but it’s not like they touched your stomach or throat or anything that would prevent you from eating on your own… However, I wonder if they’ve done it so that you aren’t twisting and turning to try to eat in that thing. This way, you don’t need to move,” she guesses.

I snort. I still hate it.

“I'm sure they’ll take it out and release you once your tail heals,” Katie says. “Can I see it?”

I nod my head. ‘No can move tail though,’ I reply. My tail is still strapped down in the sling and I can’t move it. Katie dips down and swims underneath me. She does not touch my injury, but I can feel her fingers ghosting over the scales near it.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” she comments. “Irritated and sore, yes, but everything seems closed up and healing. Your scales are probably going to grow back soon. Jenny said that the exhibit opens next week, I wonder if it will be fully healed by then. They probably won’t put you in there still injured and they won’t want to wait either. Do mermaids tend to heal quickly?” She asks.

I shrug. How should I know, they could just give me chemicals that would force me to heal. That would make sense. I stare at Katie, hating my limited current communication skills. There are so many things I want to tell her and teach her too. She is not human anymore, yet she still acts like it and I want to teach her to be more Mer-like. That is the other thing. I have no idea how to get her to stop calling us mermaids. The human term is wrong. We are just Mer. And I feel like she should know more, or at least the little bit that I do remember, since it does not look like the process is reversible.

“Well, hopefully you do, that way you won’t be in pain for too long. Does it hurt very badly?” She hesitates on the question.

I frown, but shake my head. It was definitely painful when it happened, but I have been through much worse so it does not seem so bad to me. ‘Not too much,’ I tell her. ‘Teach me?’ I request. I want something to do and expanding my vocabulary seems like a good way to pass some time.

Katie smiles and nods in agreement.

 

 **“Do** you think that you’ve got all that?” Katie inquires. I nod. My head is swimming with new signs, but I think I can remember them all.

‘Yes, I think I have most of them,’ I agree.

“You’re getting a lot better,” Katie says. “Your sentences are far less choppy and you’re getting faster too.” Then her belly rumbles and she blushes. “I wonder what time it is,” she murmurs. “I'm getting hungry.”

‘Why do you talk to her?’ I ask.

“Who, Jenny?” I nod.

Katie shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

‘She is-” I begin the recently learned sign for human, but stop.

“Human?” Katie finishes flatly.

‘I am sorry, I did not mean like that,’ I state. ‘I did not mean to upset you. You are my best friend, not a bad person.’

“I know what you meant,” Katie sighs. “You meant because she works here, right?” I nod my head. “Luna, where someone works is just like what species they are; it doesn’t define who they are. Just because Jenny works here, doesn’t make her a bad person. Dr. Patron and Dr. Auldon and many others here are cruel people, but it isn't because they work here; it’s because of the choices they make. Jenny is just following orders. She’s nice and I like her. That’s why I talk to her.” I nod my head slowly. It makes sense. I guess I have just come to think of most humans, especially the ones here, as bad. It is all I have ever known them to be. Except for Katie, of course. I think I would have liked her even if she was still human.

‘Do not tell her, okay?’

“Tell her what?”

‘About this.’

“Sign language, why not?”

‘Less they know, better,’ I state. ‘They should not know you can speak other way and I do not want them to know that I can understand. They just use to hurt.’

“Alright,” Katie agrees. “I won't say anything.” She squeezes my hand.

I chew the inside of my lip. ‘If you never turn,’ I tap her scales. ‘If you just come here. Would you still have want to be my friend?’

Katie pauses for a moment. “To be honest, if they hadn’t brought me here, I likely wouldn’t have known about this place, I live on the other side of the world. I suppose if they still opened the exhibit, I may have eventually come, but even then, I doubt I’d have been able to actually meet you. Though I likely would still want to. But I can tell you that even if I woke up tomorrow with my legs back, I would never just leave you. I would still stay here and try to do everything I could to get you out of here,” she replies. “I don’t know what it would be like if things were different, but I’m glad I met you. There are many things that I regret and hate about this situation. The people who did this and even the tail for example, but meeting you isn’t one of those things. You do understand that, right?”

I nod. ‘I glad that you are here, too. Been lonely by myself.’ I jump at the sound of a door. It isn’t long before that Jenny woman comes into view. She climbs the steps to the platform and I feel her shadow fall over me. I shiver. Despite Katie’s words, I cannot help but feel exposed and helpless in the sling that keeps me within arm’s reach of the surface. Katie glances up and flicks her fin gently to propel herself to the surface. I twist in an attempt to roll over. I want to be able to see what is going on, just in case. Katie glances at me and leans over to undo the strap holding my tail down.

“Just be careful,” she whispers.

“Hey! Don’t undo that!” The woman exclaims. I shift slowly onto my back and watch them from below the water. “She’s strapped in so she doesn’t make her injuries worse.”

“She’s okay,” Katie replies, her voice soft. “Don’t worry; I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Part of me wants to be offended, I don’t need to be watched over, but I know she’s also covering for me. I asked her not to say anything and she isn't.

“Alright,” Jenny caves. “Just make sure she’s careful, okay?”

“Did you bring food?” Katie ignores the woman’s statement.

“Yes,” Jenny laughs.

“What did you bring?”

“What do you think I brought?”

Katie groans and lets her head fall forward. “I am so sick of fish,” she exclaims. “What I wouldn’t give for a hamburger and chips, or pizza, or cheesy taters…” Katie trails off.

“You're drooling,” Jenny comments.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry,” comes Katie’s sheepish reply.

“Sorry kid, fish it is,” Jenny states. Katie groans again. “You know that I would, but I'm not allowed to. Especially not after your actions the other day. I can’t believe you actually bit someone. You know Charles needed eleven stitches. They aren’t too happy with you at the moment.”

Katie’s fin swishes through the water near my face. “I was trying to protect her,” she whispers.

“Suzie has been here for many years. This isn't new for her. Getting yourself into trouble is stupid. I’m just glad that it didn’t screw up your gift.”

“What?” Katie asks.

“I’ve been discussing it with Dr. Auldon and the superintendent the past couple of days about it. You see, there’s some bad news.”

“Like?”

“Things didn’t work out the way either of us thought. Once the exhibit opens, my contact with you becomes greatly limited. My job is to make sure you’re both fed, but there’s a much more experienced handler that takes full charge of you two. He plans to train you to do an underwater show. So next week, Bailey becomes your only identity and pleasing crowds your only task. You grew up at a marine park, I'm sure you know how this works. Don’t upset them. They can do much worse than make you go hungry.”

Katie does not reply immediately. “All of this is so fast,” she finally says, her voice broken. “It’s too much.”

“That’s why I got them to agree to allow you to have one last act as Katie Waters.” I sit up and poke my head above the water enough to see them properly. Jenny hands Katie a white, fluffy piece of fabric. “Pull yourself out of the water and dry your arms and your hair if you can.”

Katie does not question the woman as she does what she is asked. The woman places three colorful pieces of thick paper on the floor beside Katie. My friend frowns as she scans them.

“These are birthday cards,” she says.

Jenny nods. “Yes. To go with this.”

She hands Katie a small box. Katie takes it and opens it. Her breath hitches and I hear her gasp. I lean forward slightly as she pulls out a chain. It looks similar to the one around our necks, but thinner, longer, and it’s a golden color. At the bottom is a small circle with a little silver dolphin hanging below it. There is some symbols carved into the front, but I cannot hope to understand what it means. But I know it means a lot because Katie’s hands shake as she struggles to open the little gold oval. Inside is a very tiny image of two people. I don’t really recognize either of them though.

“I got the picture off of her Facebook page,” Jenny says. “It was the best one I could find. I hope that it’s okay.”

“You did this?” Katie asks.

Jenny nods. “It seemed really important to you. I’m taking it to her personally, so I’m going to be gone a few days.”

“I thought she couldn’t know,” Katie says. “What are you going to tell her?”

“Most of your stuff was given to her when she was told about your death,” Jenny states. “Your camera and other stuff that had been loaded onto the boat. Everything except the backpack you were wearing at the time of the kidnapping. It didn’t have much, just your phone and some clothes. She’s been asking for it, but it was brought with you so they just told her that whoever hit you probably took it. Well now they’ve recovered it. I'm going to take it to her. Say that the gift was inside and addressed to her,” Jenny explains. She hands Katie a thin blue stick. “Pick whichever card you want, write anything you want. You just can’t write anything that would suggest where you are, what happened, or make it seem like you knew you were going to ‘die.’ Basically make it what you would say to her if you knew it was the last time you got to talk to her, but didn’t want her to know that.”

Katie nods. “Okay,” her voice is broken and tears are running down her cheeks. I can't tell if she’s crying because she is happy, sad, or both, but I move a little closer to her anyways.

“Katie, there is a condition to all of this,” Jenny states. “They agreed that I could do this as long as I made something clear to you. This is it. Within the next ten minutes or so, Katie ceases to exist. You need to forget about Katherine Waters and accept that you are now a mermaid and your name is Bailey. Do exactly what they tell you to do and nothing that they don’t. I have to make you promise before any of this can happen. No more lashing out, no matter what they decide for you or Suzie. You understand?”

Katie glances at me. We both know that this promise means she will not be able to protect me. Not that she could do more than try anyways. This is really important to her, I know that, and I am used to the cruel treatment anyways. I give her the tiniest of nods.

A small smile touches her tear-stained face. She turns back to Jenny and nods. “I understand and I promise.”

“Pick a card sweetheart,” is Jenny’s response. I watch Katie scan over her three options. She chooses the middle one, flips it open, presses her blue stick against the paper, and begins to write.

I can’t understand any of the neat, curvy symbols, but by the time Katie has finished, blue symbols coat almost every part of the card. She closes it. Jenny picks it up and flips it open. Katie makes a small noise of protest.

“I have to,” Jenny says. “I know it’s personal and I’m sorry, but you know that I have to. I’ll try to forget it okay?”

Katie rubs at her nose, but nods.

Jenny is silent as her eyes dart over whatever Katie put on the page. I’m curious, but I know I will never ask her. Jenny doesn’t comment either, just folds up the card, sticks it into a closed paper holder of some kind and hands it back to Katie. She takes it and writes a few symbols on the front, then closes off the holder. Jenny puts the little box and the card into a small, colorful bag. She squeezes Katie’s arm gently before standing and leaving without a word.

As soon as she’s gone, a sob escapes Katie. She hugs her shoulders and begins to cry very hard. I ignore the pain in my tail and push myself up onto the deck so I can hug her. I'm not sure about most of what happened, but I know she just lost everything. I hug her tightly. It does not matter what they call her or decide for her. I do not care if she is Mer or human or both as she is. She is my very best friend. My sister. They can call her Bailey. Force her to do as they say. She wanted to protect me, and I know she will always try. Now I realize that I have to try to protect her too. So no matter what happens. She will always be Katie to me.

 

**As a quick aside, if interested, you can find the entire story, as well as a bunch of other content, available on my Patreon (I'll leave a link below.) If you're interested in checking it out, I am running a special promotion that offers free cameos in any of my currently ongoing stories to any Patreons currently joined or that sign up in the next month. This story will still continue to be posted publicly as well, so don't feel like you're obligated, but you'll see a lot of early access content as a Patreon, as well as be able to read this story to completion immediately. Part two is already underway and being posted there as well.<https://www.patreon.com/fantasyocean> this is my Patreon for anyone interested. Have a great day. **

**-Fantasy Ocean**


	8. A Final Gift

**Sophie**

 

I lean my cheek against my hand and drum my fingers on the table. My eyes scan the walls, a wry smile touching my lips at the sight of the picture frames. I’ve hung everything. Pictures from birthday parties, her first underwater photo, doodles she used to bring me before I took her in, everything. I'm glad I did it, even if they only make me cry now. Lying on the table in front of me is a small photo frame. The one from my nightstand. Her secondary graduation photo. One of the few times I could convince her to dress up. Not that it mattered, she always looked pretty. I trace my finger along the outline of the photo. The two of us are in it. I’ve got my arm wrapped around her and her straightened hairs is beginning to fall into her face. She’s laughing. I can’t remember why, but she looks really happy. I'm glad she was, considering she didn’t want to go. The night before she’d spent hours crying. She’d hoped her mother would come, but of course; Roxanne had refused. I used to consider her my friend when we were young, but we had a falling out when she abandoned Katie. I hated her for doing it; she never deserved to be a mother. Especially not to a child so perfect. I sniff and rub at my nose.

A knock on the door startles me out of my thoughts.

“Sophie?” I hear Lewis call from the other side of the door. He knocks again. “Sophie, come on, open the door. Look, I know you're hurting. We all miss her too, but the park needs tending to. This was Katie’s home too; don’t let it fall into disrepair. Come out.” There’s a pause and I don’t bother to give him a response. The last thing I want to think about is work. Lewis and the others can manage just fine without me. “Sophie? I'm coming in alright?” I hear the lock click and mentally curse telling him where I hid the spare key. Lewis opens the door and pokes his head in, his shaggy blond hair is slick with sweat. He walks over and sits down in the chair beside me. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head and cover my mouth to stifle a sob. Lewis wraps his arm around me.

“Don’t cry. It’s going to be okay. I miss her too, Soph.”

“Please,” I whisper. “Just go away. Leave me be.”

Lewis shakes his head. “No, not until I see you eat something and then you need to get out of this apartment.

“Don’t defy me, I'm your boss,” I argue weakly.

Lewis chuckles. “Don’t play the boss card with me Sophie. What are you going to do, fire me? Go ahead. We’ve been friends since this place opened. I’m worried about you, I'm not leaving.”

I pick up the picture and hug it to my chest. “I really miss her,” I say softly. “I tried to set a second place at the dinner table last night, this morning I knocked on her door for five minutes telling her she was going to be late for school before I realized what I was doing.”

Lewis rubs my back. “I know. We all miss her too. She was a good kid.”

“She was perfect,” I state, staring at my hands. “Absolutely perfect. Why, out of all the people on this planet, why did it have to be her?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. It shouldn’t have been her, but we can’t change the past. Come on,” he drags me to my feet. “Go get cleaned up and come back. It’s okay if you aren’t up for working, but you at least need to get outside and out of this apartment before you go crazy.”

I nod. “Okay.” I walk down the hall to the bathroom. “Lewis? Thanks.”

He nods and then makes a shooing motion. I close the door behind me and sigh. I shower and work through the tangles of my unkempt hair, before pulling it back. I hesitate at the door. I'm not ready to face the outside world yet. I gather my courage and leave the bathroom. Lewis is gone, but I know he’s likely waiting outside the door, so I slip on a pair of sandals and leave the apartment. Sure enough, Lewis is waiting for me out in the hall, his back is pressed up against the seashell wallpaper.

“Hey,” he greets. I offer him half a smile and take a deep breath.

“So, what did you need me for?” I ask.

“You’ve been inside for a week, I was concerned about you. That and you’ve got about a half-dozen reports to fill out,” he says. “But don’t worry about them right now. I’ve had Jackson forward temporary replies to everything; letting them know you’ve taken a short leave of absence. You can get to those later.  I just thought you needed a walk in the fresh air and scorching sun,” he states.

“Thanks,” I reply. “About the reports. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“How is everything else doing here? What about your work?”

“Fine, everything is running pretty smoothly. One of the sea otters took to being sick, but I got it all cleared up.”

I nod and pause at one of the tanks. I lean against the rail and watch the seals below. Boon, the largest male, has pulled himself up onto one of the small rock structures and is flopped, belly up, in the sun. Jared and Cory are swimming below. “I remember when she was little. She used to love to come down here with her father and help feed the otters and seals,” I can’t help but chuckle. “And she used to be terrified of the dolphins. Loved the sharks, but you couldn’t get her within ten feet of the dolphin tank for anything.”

“She outgrew that though.”

“Well, once she started living here and was around them more often, she got over her fear. I'm not even sure if she knew why she was scared of them.”

I take a deep breath. My heart is tearing in two now that I'm talking about her, but it also feels pretty good to be able to look back on all the old memories that didn’t seem so important before.

“Excuse me,” a voice startles me out of my daze. “Are you Miss Brooks?”  I turn to face a woman. Black hair is pulled up in a bun and her brown eyes are focused on me.

“Yes,” I reply. “How did you get in here, the park is closed today.”

“Front gate, security let me in. We need to talk.”

“What about?”

“Katherine,” the woman replies. I feel my heart clench. “I work with the police force in charge of finding the driver.”

I shake my head. “I already told your people that I’m not interested in pressing charges. I just want to mourn Katie in peace, not get dragged into a lawsuit. She never would have wanted that.”

“I understand that,” the woman replies. “But we still need to talk. We found the guy and we found something else too, something you will be interested in.”

I sigh and turn to Lewis. “Can you give me a moment?”

He nods. “Sure, I'm supposed to be getting a shipment of vaccines for the otters today anyways, so I’ll just go do some prep work and get to stocking,” he says. I watch him walk off before I return my gaze to the woman in front of me.

“What do you need?” I ask, not in the mood for pleasantries.

The woman bends down and opens up the large black bag she had been carrying. “It turns out that the man who hit your daughter wasn’t drunk. He was a thief who robbed the mall down the street. He was trying to escape before the police showed up. We got a confession and the truth out of him. He hadn’t meant to hit her, but he was speeding and couldn’t stop in time. He did get out and try to see if she was alright. But when he found her already dead he panicked, tried to take her ID to give himself time to get away. He had grabbed this and I thought you might want it back.” She pulls out a worn, brown knapsack. Katie’s bag. “It seems fully intact. Her wallet and ID are inside, along with her cellphone, a change of clothes, and forty dollars. We had to go through it for evidence, but it’s been cleared and you can have it back.”

My hands shake as I reach out and accept the bag. I bury my face in it. Her hair was wet when she left and this still smells of her shampoo. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“There’s more,” the woman says. She pulls out another little bag. One stuffed with purple tissue paper, a green envelope sticking out. The bag itself is white, with ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ in big colorful bubble letters. “We didn’t open the card or anything and it’s addressed to you. Do you recognize the handwriting?”

I pull out the card and examine my name written on the front. “Yes, it’s Katie’s.”

The woman nods. “Just making sure. If there’s anything inside that doesn’t look like it would be from her, any threat or hidden message, be sure to report it alright?”

“I understand. Thank you,” I reply.

“I know this is the last thing you want to here, but I'm really sorry for your loss. I was in charge of going through her social media, not that there was much, because we always have to find out more about the victim. Determine if she may have been a target, or possibly even suicidal. She was neither. She seemed like a really great kid, and I'm sorry that you lost her.”

I nod. “Thank you. Now I'm sorry, but I’d really just like some time with all of this.”

The woman holds up her hands. “I understand. I have to get back anyways.” She doesn’t offer up anything else as she gathers her bag and walks away.

I sink down on the bench next to me and set the gift bag down. I turn the card over and over in my hands. This could quite possibly be the last thing Katie wrote and I’m not sure if I'm ready to open it. I take a deep breath, decide, and carefully ease the envelope open. The card inside is white, a glittery cursive designing the front; _Happy Birthday to the Most Beloved Mother._ I take another deep breath and flip it open;

_Happy Birthday Sophie, hope you had another great year._

_Wow, I can’t believe how much time has flown by since that first night. I still remember it. It was late and very soon after my father’s death. Roxanne had packed my suitcase, phoned ahead, and left me at the gates of the park in my pajamas. You made me hot chocolate and toast and let me sleep in your bed. I was, what? Eight maybe. Now I'm sixteen and you're thirty-nine. And there has never been a day that you haven’t tried to do anything you possibly could for me. I want you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me and I would do anything for you too._

_I can’t think of a single life-changing special memory of mine that doesn’t revolve around you. You were the one who lit the candles on every birthday cake since I was nine. You were the one who encouraged me to follow my dreams, got me my first camera, stayed up with me if I had a nightmare… The list goes on forever really. If I had to pick one specific memory to recall though, it would have to be the night before my twelfth birthday. I had been desperately hoping that my mother would come for it. I was foolish and of course she had refused. I felt so abandoned and unloved. I remember you found me, curled up behind my bed, sobbing. I’d said something stupid. I’d asked why you bothered. Why you cared? You weren’t my mother and I wasn’t your daughter. We weren’t flesh and blood, so why did you throw me parties when my mother couldn’t even bother to show up. It had taken you all of half a second to hug me and tell me that it was because you loved me. You told me that it didn’t matter that I wasn’t related to you by blood, I was better than that, because instead of being the family you were born with, I’m the family you choose to love. I’ve never forgotten those words. They mean everything to me…_

_You know, people are fools. The doctors told you that you were broken inside, that you could never have children. And the agency told you that you could never adopt because your work posed too many threats to the child. Wild animals and drowning possibilities and such. They told you that you couldn’t be a mother. That maybe you weren’t meant to be. They were wrong. I was wrong too when I was younger._

_I was wrong for believing that my mother was coming back for me, for believing that she was even my mother at all. Because she isn’t. You are. And you always will be. I love you, and that’s a choice I made._

_Happy Birthday Mom._

Wet splotches appear at the bottom of the card, smearing the last few letters. I close the card and rub at my eyes. It doesn’t help cease the flow of tears. What did I do to deserve such a perfect child? She didn’t deserve to be ripped from the world like this. Not when she only ever offered people kindness. I slip the card back into its envelope and tuck it safely into her knapsack. I push my hand through the tissue paper and pull out a white box the size of my palm. I don’t recognize the label on the front, but I assume it’s some sort of jewelry store. I lift the lid and feel my heart stop.

Nestled in the protective cushioning of the box is a locket. I carefully lift it out to examine it properly. There’s a little dolphin hanging below the locket. I pop it open to see one of the spaces already filled. It’s a photo of the two of us. Katie has her arms around my neck, her head on my shoulder. The both of us are laughing. I think it was the day we got the new sea turtle. I was supposed to pose in front of the tank for an ad campaign and Katie had dropped in unannounced. Sure enough, I can see a small green blur in the water behind us; a flipper. I stroke her face with my finger and sigh, hugging the gift against my chest. The gift can’t have been cheap, the chain and locket both being gold, and I may have scolded her for spending so much if she were here, but the gift is so perfect I wouldn’t dream of thinking poorly of her choice now. I close the locket, intending to hang it on my neck when I notice the etching. In the sunlight earlier, I had failed to notice the engraving on the front. I examine it closer now. _The family I choose to love._ My chest tightens and suddenly it doesn’t matter that any of the employees could see. I pull my knees up, hug them, and begin to sob.


	9. Moving Day

**Katie**

I rub at my eyes. I can’t help the wave of sadness that washes over me. It’s only been about a week and a half and despite the fact that I’ve been away much longer, I’ve never missed Sophie so much in my life. I’ve never missed anyone this much in my life, including my father. Luna’s long locks tickle my nose and I react by wrapping my arms around her and burying my face into her hair. I feel her move, grab my hand, and squeeze. I know she’s scared too. The exhibit is supposed to open tomorrow and we’re supposed to be moved today.

“Are you okay,” I breathe the question into her hair. I feel her shift beside me as she rolls over. She stares at me with wide eyes that display her question clearly.

_Are you?_

“Yeah, as much as I can be. Do you think it will be nice? The tank I mean?” I’m hoping it will be the big one I saw before the procedure began, but I’m sure. Luna shrugs. She hugs me tightly and I squeeze back. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything. I wouldn’t be able to handle this without you.”

She offers me a small smile. ‘I am glad that you are here too. It is much easier to deal with all of this with a friend to support you.’

I nod. “So, when do you think they’re coming for us?”

Luna shrugs again. ‘Soon likely. They will want to get it done with, so they not have to worry about it.’

“I don’t think that would bother me,” I admit. “Would give us time to get used to it.”

Luna nods. ‘I guess so.’

I nudge her, deciding to change the subject. “I'm proud of you. You all but mastered the basics of sign language. It’s impressive that you’ve managed to do it in such a short time.” I jump when there’s a loud noise and one of the machines starts up. Two men appear on the platform and drop a rolled up net into the water. It’s clearly weighted because it drops like a rock towards us. I pull Luna up and swim up and out of the way. There’s a loud cranking sound as the ropes holding the net stretch in out along the bottom of the tank. Luna grips my arm tightly, her nails digging in slightly. I wince, but pull her a little closer. This is it; I just hope they won't be too rough about it. When the net reaches the ends of the tank, it’s pulled up so fast I barely have time to register it before my fin becomes tangled in it and I'm thrust to the surface, suspended above the water by the rough fronds. Luna tries to sit up, but loses her balance and falls into me. I twist, trying to gain purchase in the wobbly net. I feel a thin, cold loop of metal tighten around the base of my fin, seconds before I'm dragged to the edge. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out at the sharp pain in the base of my fin. It’s apparently really sensitive, and this kills. My eyes water. Another, much smaller net is thrown over me as the metal loop is removed from my tail. One of the men rolls me into the net, sealing me inside, and slings it over his shoulder. I can see the other man looping a catch pole* around Luna’s tail, getting ready to pull her to the edge too. A transport dolly waits at the bottom of the platform, a small tank sitting open on it. I’m dropped from the net into the cubed tank. The tank is very small and I have to curl my tail. My hip digs painfully into the glass, but the lid is clamped down before I have the chance to shift to a more comfortable position. I watch as the man hoists a small tank on top of mine. It’s empty, but a large hose solves that problem in minutes. Luna is then dumped inside and the lid is latched on. Poor Luna’s tank is slightly smaller than mine and she had the unfortunate luck of being dumped in upside down with no way of straightening herself out. Her face is twisted into a grimace and I know she’s in pain. I bang on the side of my tank, trying to attract their attention to Luna, hoping they’ll open the tank so she can move. The chain around my neck sparks to life, shocking me. I screech, I had forgotten how much it hurt. One of the men glares at me. I return the glare and point to Luna. He notices, frowns, and says something to the other man. A minute later, they are pulling off the lid and giving Luna’s tail a rough shove to move her into a more sideways position. The lid is then replaced. Luna flashes me a grateful look and I offer her a smile. A dark blanket is draped over the tanks. I can see okay in the dark thanks to the Mer genes, and can make out Luna, but she’s focused on curling as tight as she can in an effort to roll over. The trip takes a while and is very bumpy, leaving me sore and slightly ill.

Eventually we stop moving and the blanket is removed. We’re in a dark room with lots of machinery, not unlike in the other room. A massive wall extends up in front of us, a small platform opening near the top. A large staircase leads up to it. The men shift Luna’s tank, Hook thick straps and cables to it.

“Make sure it’s tight,” the one worker warns. “Dr. Auldon will have our heads if one of the tanks drops.” They check and double check before giving some sort of okay. Suddenly, the cables hoist Luna’s tank off mine and up into the air. Panic crosses her features as the tanks sways slightly. While hers is being lifted, the workers begin hooking up mine. Within minutes, the cables are pulling tight and my tank lurches as it’s pulled into the air. I squeeze my eyes shut until I hear a soft thud and my tank is back on solid ground. I open them again and glance around. While the platform looked small from below, it’s actually massive, and connects to a side room. A small forklift is driven out onto the platform and used to push our tanks into the tank behind the cement wall. At first I panic, wondering how they are going to let us out, when I realize there is a ledge below for the tanks to sit on. The cubed tanks fall in and hit the ledge with a jarring thud. I wince and twist, eager for them to release us. My hopes are dashed when the forklift drives back the way it came and a garage-like door closes, leaving us alone. I glance into the outer tank. It is bare and more like a large tube that a tank. The glass spirals up and continues past my line of sight. Maybe this is just a loading place and we’re meant to swim up and into the new tank. That doesn’t explain why they haven’t let us out. I squirm in the tank, my limbs starting to cramp. I glance over at Luna. She’s curled up in a very tiny ball and it doesn’t look like she should be able to with how long her tail is. It makes me wonder how small the tank she used to be kept in was. It seems like she’s used to being squashed into a tight space. I meet her gaze, which is full of sadness.  I try to offer her a small smile, but she only turns her head and closes her eyes. I sigh and shift uncomfortably, trying to settle in.

 

 **After** a while, I’m startled out of a daze by a slight hissing noise. The lid of my tank raises open a few centimeters, allowing water from the outside tank to seep in. The water develops a new sweeter and saltier taste to it. I glance over at Luna and judging by her reaction, it’s more like ocean water than the water in our tanks. She slips her fingers through the small opening, when withdraws them. She looks incredibly upset. Her tail moves, strikes the glass, but there’s not enough room for her to gather the force to attempt to break the glass. I watch her bow her head in defeat.

She probably thinks they’re trying to torment us more, but the second the tank opened a little, I figured out what they were doing. I tap on the side of the tank to get her attention, deciding to speak to her in sign language. She glances up at me.

‘It is okay,’ I tell her. ‘They are going to let us out. They are treating us like fish being introduced to a new home tank. You are supposed to keep the fish inside the bag or whatever that you got it in and put the back into the water to allow the fish to adjust to the temperature of the new tank. You then add some of the tank water to the bag for further adjustment, and then release the fish. They will let us out.’ I’m not sure if she understood every word, but I know I got my point across. She shrugs and hits the glass. I can tell they’ve never done this to her before and I don’t understand why they’re doing it now, but there isn't much I can do about it. I sigh and coil up again.

I take to counting the scales on my tail. I get to three hundred forty seven before there’s another hissing noise and the lid to my tank opens all the way. I sigh with relief and stretch out, giving my fin a flick to propel me out of the small prison. I glance over to see that Luna’s is still raising up. She’s squirming, her body halfway out, in an attempt to squeeze through the rest of the way. I push up on the lid of her tank, helping it go a little faster so she can slip free.

‘Thank you,’ she says.

“Don’t mention it.” I tilt my head back to stare up the tunnel. “Do you think we are supposed to swim up there?”

Luna shrugs.

“Maybe we should check it out,” I suggest.

Luna hesitates and bites her top lip, then reluctantly nods in agreement. She follows me as I swim up through the tunnel. I was right, it leads to the new tank. The tunnel opens up at the bottom of the tank, off to the side. I swim out and gasp. The tank is huge. It isn’t the same on that I saw on the first day, but it is similar. It has a sort of hourglass shape, thinning in the middle and widening at the top and bottom. And now that I look closely, the top is a second floor with a wide hole to allow us access to it. The floor of the tank is coated in soft sand and growing pieces of coral. We actually have our own tiny reef. Fronds of kelp are sprouting up all over the place too. The tank is big, but void of any life. I look at Luna. Her jaw is hanging open as she stares with wide eyes. I smile, knowing that this will be good for her. I tap her on the shoulder before darting away.

“Tag,” I call. A grin splits her face and she darts after me.

 

 **We** spend the next several hours chasing one another and playing a various assortment of childhood games. When we tire of tag, we race, play tic-tac-toe in the sand, and eventually start wrestling. The objective; to pin the other down. I maintain the upper hand for a while, but then Luna calls on some hidden reserves of strength and suddenly, in the blink of an eye, I find myself on my back against the sand, Luna overtop of me, smiling. She seems very pleased with herself.

“Mercy,” I say, falling limp. Luna’s grin broadens and she moves off me, and lies down beside me instead. “You know, we haven’t gone to the top level yet,” I say. “Want to go check it out?”

Luna shrugs and nods, sitting up once more. We swim up through the hole in the floor of the second level of the tank. It looks similar to the lower level, being covered in sand, coral, and kelp, but it also has a small cave that I'm assuming is for Luna and I to sleep in, and the top of the tank is open for us to surface if we so desire. Both comfort me; it will be nice to have some place private to sleep and I would really begin to miss the air if I was trapped underwater permanently. Looking up, I notice that there’s someone standing on the platform that overlooks the tank. I hesitate before swimming up, just below the skin of the water, for a closer look. When I see that it’s Jenny and that she appears to be alone, I surface.

She bends down to greet me. “I was wondering when the two of you would make your way up here,” she comments. “So what do you think?”

“It isn't what I expected,” I admit. “Certainly larger and nicer than I thought.”

Jenny shrugs. “You’re the star attraction. I’m sure you know how this works, the better you are and more attention you attract, the better things get for you. Nicer food, décor, possibly toys… you following me?”

“I get it,” I state. “Be a good little fish and put on a nice show.”

“Just trying to help. Are you hungry?”

“A little,” I admit. “Don’t suppose you brought anything other than capelin* did you?”

Jenny laughs. “Actually yes, I brought you a treat. How do clams and kelp sound?”

“Better than capelin,” I agree. I glance down to see Luna hovering near my fin, her curiosity clearly not great enough for her to risk sticking her head above the water. “Wait, does she get them too?”

Jenny nods, her expression turning solemn. “Suzie is going to eat a lot better now, don’t you worry. For a little while, she’s going to get a little more than you, seeing as she’s so skinny and way underweight. Don’t be jealous.”

“Of course not!” I reply. “I'm glad, it can’t be healthy for her to be like this.”

“No, it isn't,” Jenny agrees. “Do you think you can coax her up?”

“Yeah, I’ll get her, one second.” I dive back down and grasp Luna’s wrist. She seems hesitant. Not wanting to hold a full conversation with her in front of Jenny since she asked me not to reveal that, I attempt to reassure her with a single word. “Food.”

It does the trick and she allows me to pull her up. She shies away from Jenny though, clearly still nervous around people she doesn’t know. Jenny reaches into her metal pail and pulls out a clam. She holds it out towards Luna and gives it a little shake, clearly trying to tempt my friend. Not that she needs to, Luna’s eyes light up the second she saw the clam. Her nerves melt away, clearly trumped by her eagerness as she takes the clam. I watch her to learn how to open them. She turns it over in her hands and uses a fingernail to test the crack between the two shells. When she has no luck, Luna places her palms on either side of the clam and twists them violently in opposite directions. The shells twist enough for her to hook her nails underneath and snap the top shell clean off. She gulps down the meat eagerly. Jenny offers her another one and gives me one as well. I attempt to copy Luna’s technique and it takes me three tries to get it right. The clam is delicious, especially since it’s a change from the fish that has been the only thing given to me at every meal.

I receive a total to eight clams, while Luna is given eleven. Then Jenny gives us each two long strands of kelp. “Don’t eat the ones in the tank,” she warns. “They won’t like that.” Then she bids me goodnight and leaves us to finish our meal. I sink back down and lounge on the sand. Luna follows me down. Her body shudders in what appears to be a hiccup, and then she falls to the sand, hugging her stomach. She seems content.

“Good meal?” I ask. Luna nods, her eyes half-lidded. I squeeze her shoulder, trying to get her to wake up a little more. “So about tomorrow. The exhibit opens and I think there is going to be an awful lot of people.” Luna bites her upper lip and nods in agreement. “The scientists will be mad if we don’t make an appearance,” I continue. “And they’ll want us to show off a little too.” Again, Luna nods. She seems nervous and hesitant. I'm feeling the exact same way. “It’ll be okay though,” I attempt to reassure her. “We’ll get up early and play some games, pretend like they aren’t even there, okay? Maybe you can show me some of those underwater flips I’ve seen you do. Apparently doing flips underwater with a tail is more complicated than it looks because I can’t figure it out.”

Luna nods her head. ‘Yes, I can try and teach you if you want.”

I smooth back her hair. “We should get some sleep. Want to check out that cave? I know it’s manmade, but I think that’s its purpose and it’s probably cozy inside.”

Luna pauses to consider this. ‘I do not like the idea of being in a tight space,’ she admits finally.

I pull her up. “Well, let’s just check it out. It can't hurt to take a look. If you don’t like it, we’ll sleep out here,” I decide. Luna nods and follows me as I push the small kelp strands, the ones covering the cave entrance, aside and swim in. The cave is more spacious than it looks on the outside, and the water is warmer. I note the small heater hooked to one of the fake rock walls. Instead of sand, the floor of the cave is covered in small sprouts of growing seagrass that makes for an immensely soft bed. I poke around the walls of the cave, searching for a camera or microphone, or any other sort of recording device. I'm very thorough, but I find nothing. I turn to Luna. During my search, she curled up on the grass to wait and is now sound asleep. I glance around the cave once more. I'll ask Jenny about the possibility of cameras tomorrow, but for now I don’t want to wake Luna. I settle down beside her and rest my head on my arm. She shifts, rolls over, and buries her nose against my collarbone. I wrap an arm around her and close my eyes, mentally bracing myself for tomorrow.


	10. The Grand Opening

**Katie**

I wake up with a groan and sit up, glancing around. What woke me? Whatever it was, it woke Luna too. She rubs her eyes and glances at me. I shrug. A shrill whistle echoes through the tank. Luna jumps at the noise. A second later the whistle comes again, followed by a slight hissing noise as the two shock collars spark to life. I bend over and grab at my neck, my fingernails scratching against the metal links. Luna hisses and lashes her fin, squeezing her eyes shut. Someone whistles again.

Not eager to feel the bite of the collar’s electricity again, I grab Luna’s wrist and tow her out of the cave and towards the surface. As we approach, I see four people hovering on the deck. I hesitate, slightly nervous when I don’t see Jenny. My hesitation seems to provoke them though because suddenly a catch pole is dipping into the water. The handler of the long pole is very fast and the metal loop is pulled tight around my throat before I can react. I choke and twist in the grip of the pole as I’m dragged to the edge of the deck.

With my head above the water it becomes harder to breathe and I begin to wheeze. Instead of loosening, the loop cinches tighter as two of the others grab my tail and I'm hoisted onto one of two awaiting gurneys. Only once I'm strapped down by my shoulders, head, and hips, is the catch pole loosened, allowing me to breath. I gasp and choke as I inhale sharply. Luna has surfaced with her fangs bared, clearly wanting to help me. The handlers pay her warning no mind as she’s dragged out the same way I was.

We’re then wheeled down a winding maze of hallways, stopping finally in a large room that looks like a cross between an operating room and a salon. Trolleys of supplies are wheeled over and gloves are snapped on. I gulp, scared for what comes next. Luna bucks and jerks around on her gurney. A woman approaches me. I'm unable to turn my head or attempt to stop her as her gloved hands approach my face. She peels back one of my eyelids and shines a bright light into my eye. I wince and attempt to blink away the black dots that dance in my vision. She moves to the other eye and does the same. My ears are checked next. She returns with a small eyedropper and proceeds to use it on my eyes. The liquid stings and makes my eyes water, but I can’t guess what it might be for. Next, she clips and files down each of my fingernails until they are short and rounded, before painting them in a shiny, sparkly nail polish. My fin is dipped into a bin of warm, soapy water, and scrubbed at. I wince again and try to pull away. The only thing that earns me is a zap from the collar. I fall still. She moves to my tail afterwards and uses a sharp, curved pick to pull any grit or dead skin from between the scales. It’s slightly painful, but I try not to move. I’ve come to realize that they are preparing us for the opening. Trying to make us look clean and pretty. When she finishes with the pick, she picks up a pair of tweezers and proceeds to pluck any loose or broken scales from my tail. I bite back a whimper and try not to jerk away each time she pulls an amethyst scale. Her next step is much softer. She rubs a clear lotion onto my tail, leaving it smooth and shiny. She applies the same lotion to my arms and stomach. She returns to the tweezers and pick for my chest scales, then applies the lotion to my chest, shoulders, and cheeks. She leaves my neck alone and I’m assuming it’s because of my gills. She moves away after and changes her gloves. Unable to move my head to watch what she’s doing now, I attempt to strain my eyes for a glimpse. No luck. I sigh and fall still again.

I long to glance at Luna and make sure she’s okay, but I can’t see her. The occasional sound of her fin smacking the gurney lets me know that she’s still here and not pleased.

The woman comes back wheeling over an IV stand with an IV attached. The liquid inside is clear, but I can’t know for sure if it’s water or not. She presses two fingers into my neck and looks at me expectantly, but I don’t know what she wants. She pushes harder and I wince at the pain in my gills. _Does she want me to lift them?_ I ponder. If so, I can’t help her because I don’t know how. They sort of just do it when I’m underwater, just like they merge when I’m above it. I’ve never had to put any thought into it.

The woman removes her fingers and picks up a small breathing mask. She moves the strap out of the way and presses the mask over my mouth and nose. She uses tape to secure it to my face, then hooks up a clear tube to the mask. The tube is also attached to the IV. I feel my chest tighten as water floods the sealed mask and begins to suffocate me. I feel my gills flare and attempt to help me breathe, but they are useless above water. The woman squirts my gills with a tiny spray bottle and then shoves a paper tipped Popsicle stick up one of them, then removes it and does the same to the next one with a new Popsicle stick. It is incredibly painful and I try not to gasp and waste precious oxygen.

My lungs are burning, black spots dancing in my fading vision before she finally removes the mask. I gasp and begin to cough uncontrollably. I hear Luna doing the same, her coughs raspy and voiceless, but there none the less and I know she’s received the same treatment.

“Enough,” the woman snaps. “Shut up, you’re fine.”

I sniff and try to still my coughing. I’d like to do the same to her and see how ‘fine’ she thinks she is afterwards. She carefully wraps each stick and places them in sample containers. I watch her write ‘Bailey, gill samples’ on a piece of masking tape across the surface of the container.

“Let’s do this fast,” the woman grunts to someone out of my line of vision. I hear footsteps behind me and a pair of gloved hands cup either side of my face. The fingers dig into my cheeks, forcing my jaw open. They then quickly grab me by my upper and lower jaw, and wrench my jaw open. “Watch the fangs,” the woman warns.

“I’ve got her,” a male voice replies. “Just get set up.” He pulls my mouth open wider than it’s meant to go and tears water in my eyes at the straining pain. The woman slides something into my mouth and I feel thin wires slip between my teeth. She puts another object in my mouth on the other side, more wires fixing it in place. I brush my tongue against it, discover a thin wooden pole. Both people move their hands away, but I still can’t close my mouth. Every time I try the wood digs painfully into the roof of my mouth. Overhead mirrors are moved into place and I can suddenly see myself, my teeth on display. I roll my eyes up as far as I can and can see Luna through the mirrors too. Her mouth is propped open the same way. She looks frightened and uncomfortable.

My attention is drawn away from her when a man walks into my line of sight. He has a small table full of what look like dental tools. I relax a little. I’ve been to the dentist before and I can handle a teeth cleaning; as long as that’s all they intend. I hope so.

When the man begins to scrape my teeth with a familiar cleaning tool, I relax and allow him to do his job. The sooner he finishes, the sooner I'm done and released from the uncomfortable gurney. “Yes, you’ve done this before haven’t you? Good girl,” the man coos at me as he picks up another tool. A pick that he uses to get in between each individual tooth.

I hear Luna hiss, the sound of her fin smacking the gurney, and then someone curses. The sound of the collar coming to life fills my ears. I try to tilt my head back, get a better look. Luna’s eyes are wide, full of panic, and her mouth is coated in a fine layer of blood. One of the wooden sticks holding her mouth open is broken and hanging haphazardly against her lip. I see only the arm of the person working on her teeth. Their hand comes into view and removes the broken piece. Luna struggles, hissing again, as the dental worker replaces it with a new one. My brow furrows. I wonder why this is bothering her so much. Other than some slight discomfort, it doesn’t hurt or do any damage and I know she’s used to true pain. Why is she putting up such a fuss about it? I watch as a tool brushes her fang. She flinches, hisses again, and strains against the bindings.

 _Oh,_ I realize her reasons. _Helpless like this, they could pull, file down, or cap her fangs so she can’t bite anyone, can’t do any damage. She’s afraid they’ll strip her of her only form of self-defence, even if she seldom gets to use it as it is._

 I wish I could help her, calm her. I grunt, trying to catch her attention and strain to move my head.

“Whoa now, settle down,” the man says as he replaces a tool. “Almost done, I promise,” he spoke in a soft voice and stroked the side of my face. I snort and try to indicate towards Luna. I raise my hand, I can move up to my elbow, and point behind me. The man follows my movements, glances up and at Luna. “Oh, are you worried about your friend?” Don’t worry about her, she’s just being fussy.” He pulls out a long toothbrush with thick bristles, but a short end. It reminds me of the ones Lewis uses on the seals and dolphins. He applies some paste from a tube with a picture of a dolphin on it. I catch sight of the label. ‘Sea Smile’. The exact brand Lewis uses when he cleans the teeth of many of the marine mammals at the park. I don’t really want it in my mouth. Unfortunately, I'm not given a choice as he proceeds to brush my teeth with it. The paste tastes horrid, chalky, grainy, and like bad fish. I blanch and feel bile rise in my throat. I want to spit it out, but I doubt I'll be given the chance because the stuff is perfectly harmless if swallowed.

He finishes and moves away and let’s a woman take his place. She has rust colored hair and softer chestnut eyes. She removes my restraints, one at a time, and pulls me into a sitting position. I turn my head, trying to see Luna. She’s still strapped down, a man still working on her teeth. The woman grabs my chin and redirects my gaze back to her. She fits my head into a U-shaped ring on a stand and straps it down so that I can no longer move about. I sigh. Couldn’t they just ask me to keep my head still? It would be much faster and easier.

She leans in close and examines my face, brushing a gloved finger across my cheek. “These have stayed nicely,” she comments. “But I think they may need to be touched up in a few weeks, just to make sure they set and stay permanently. The dye looks okay too, no need to re-dye it now.”

The freckles and the hair dye. I feel a sharp pain in my gut at the reminder that I don’t look the same, that I can never go back to before.

The woman picks up a pair of tweezers and begins to pluck at my eyebrows. Never having them done before, I find the process uncomfortable and slightly painful; certainly not enjoyable.

Once she finishes, she moves behind me. I hear her open a bottle, squirt something. Then her hands are pushing through my hair, rubbing a lotion, or cream, or something into my hair and scalp. Then she begins to brush it out. “You know, this is a little longer that it was meant to be. Would you like me to cut it? Personally, I liked the length it was before she came here, it was a good length and to be honest, with this much dark brown it drowns out the beauty of the tail. The little one’s hair works nicely because of the lighter shade against the blue, but dark on dark like this is pretty awful. A good cut should let some light in and balance things out,” the woman says.

“You think so?” A man says. “I don’t think Dr. Auldon would like that. He specifically stated that he wanted it long.”

“He said that he wanted them to look alike in that manner for the initial meeting so that the younger one would be more likely to accept her,” the woman objects. “There should be no problem now.”

“Leave it the way it is for now. We’ll consult Dr. Auldon later on the matter and if he agrees, you can cut it then.”

“Mhm,” the woman replies. She moves back into view and removes one of the awful wooden poles from my mouth. Doing so reminds me of the massive ache in my jaw. She waves a finger in my face. “Now you be nice,” she warns, before she carefully takes hold of the second pole. She pulls it out quick. I force myself not to snap my mouth shut. Thankfully my arms were actually left free so I bring my hand up and attempt to massage my jaw.

The woman pushes my hand away, releases my head from the stand, and gently grips my chin. “You're a pretty fish, that’s for sure. They made a good choice, choosing you. You’re smart and that’s not a bad thing. You’ve got the role of the sweet and friendly mermaid down better than the actual mermaid here. Don’t screw that up.”

I snort and pull away from her. I meet her gaze and hold it, briefly showing her my fangs. She only laughs at me. “Sweetie, you aren’t intimidating. You lunge and that pretty necklace of yours leaves you fried, do yourself a favor and relax. You’ll be back in the water soon. In fact, Joe, why don’t you take her back to the tank? I’m going to comb out Suzie’s hair and then I'll bring her back, but Bailey is finished so there’s no sense keeping her here.”

“Alright. Good luck with the younger one, she’s certainly much wilder,” Joe comments. He grabs hold of the gurney handle and begins to push me out of the room. I twist to see Luna. Her restraints are being removed enough to allow her to sit up, but she’s still struggling like mad. I wish I knew how to stop her panicking. The doors close, cutting of my view. “Notice how I’ve left you unrestrained? Be a good girl and that may happen more often.”

I sigh and shift so that I can lie down on my stomach. The hallways are empty and passing windows show me it’s still dark outside. I yawn. It must still be very early.

It isn’t long before we reach the tank platform. I don’t wait for the man as I leap off the gurney and into the water. I chew the inside of my cheek and settle in to wait for Luna.

 

 **She’s** dropped off a while later looking extremely flustered. Almost as though she can’t see me, Luna dives past me and curls up in the corner. I swim over to her and squeeze her shoulder.  She jumps, spins around, her eyes darting back and forth before she bares her fangs and hisses. I pull back, startled. She makes no move to attack me, only presses herself further into the corner, still frantically looking around.

_She can’t see._

“Luna, it’s alright, it’s just me,” I say. She relaxes a little and slowly reaches out a hand. I grab it. She continues to shake. “Luna, relax okay? It’s going to be alright, we're alone,” I wave a hand in front of her face. “Can you see me at all? Any light or movement?”

She sniffs and shakes her head.

“Okay, what happened after they cleaned your teeth? What did they do to your eyes?”

Luna shakes her head, shivers, and then raises her hands. Both are shaking badly and I struggle to catch the meaning of her signs. ‘Do… not…know. Stings. Please, make it stop,’ she begs.

“I'm going to take a look okay? Tilt your head back and let me see.”

She hesitates, but tilts her head back. I brush my fingers against her cheek, letting her know what I'm doing, before stretching the skin around her eye to allow myself to see better. I begin to suspect contacts, something opaque that wouldn’t allow her to see through them. But her eyes remain the exact same shade and I can't see the rims of a contact lens. “I don’t know,” I admit. “Did they put anything into your eyes? Any drops or anything?”

Luna nods. ‘Just in one eye, clear liquid. Not water. Stung. Still stings.”

“Okay,” I stroke her hair. “It’s okay; we’ll figure this out alright? For now, hold onto me okay? I won't let anything happen.” I hate the fact that when it comes down to it, I'll have no control over keeping that promise or not, but I also know that I'll give it my all none the less.

I almost cry out with relief when I hear Jenny’s voice float through the tank, calling my name… or at least Bailey. With Luna firmly gripping my arm, I head to the surface. Luna’s head breaks the water too, but she ducks low so her mouth remains submerged. Her grip on my arm tightens. Jenny kneels down, opens her mouth to speak. I don’t give her the chance.

“What happened?” I demand, firing my question quickly. “She can’t see. What did they do?”

Jenny turns to observe Luna. She waves a hand in front of her face before peeling back an eyelid. Luna jerks back, offers her assailant a hiss. I squeeze her hand. “It’s just a side effect,” Jenny says at last. “Suzie had the starting of an infection in her eye, probably got it from coming in contact with chemicals or improperly cleaned equipment, then rubbing her eyes. The medication will clear it up today, before it can become painful. However, some side effects can be dizziness, lack of ability to focus the eyes, or temporary blindness. She’ll be okay and should regain her sight within the hour.

“Just try to keep her calm and don’t let her rub at her eyes. She may irritate them more that way,” Jenny finishes.

“It will fade?” I press. Jenny nods and I relax. “Okay. Sorry I cut you off, what were you going to say?”

“I was just going to let you know that you’ve got an hour before the center opens to the public; one hour until the very first tour of the premises. Your tank will be the last stop. What you choose to do with that time is up to you, I’ve already voiced my thoughts and suggestions. Just play it smart okay?”

I nod. “Yeah. And you're sure that her eyes will clear up? It won't hurt her?”

“I'm positive, relax. Good luck today sweetheart, I really hope that it goes well.”

Jenny’s final words ring in my ears minutes after she’s left. _Good luck. Yeah I guess I'll be needing that._ My heart pounds heavily in my chest and I swallow the rising lump in my throat. Still, despite my nerves, I can’t help but feel a small glimmer of hope too. A real mermaid exhibit would be a very big deal and there is bound to be hundreds, if not thousands of visitors throughout the course of the week. Even though the US is about as far from Australia as you can get, maybe someone who knows me will show up. The hope unfortunately brings a lot of worry too. What would happen if they did recognize me? How would that pan out? And what if they didn’t?

I sigh. That’s the more likely outcome and in some ways it isn't a bad thing; I wouldn’t want anyone to get into serious trouble over me and if someone did try to bust me out, would they try to take Luna too? I intend to stay true to my promise not to leave her. Ever. Another deep breath and I push the thoughts aside. No sense worrying about what I can’t control. I give Luna’s arm a squeeze and lead her back down under the water.

I settle in the sand, release my arm from her death grip, and smooth back some of her hair back. “Hopefully Jenny is right and it’s very temporary,” I tell her. “Do your eyes still sting?” Luna shakes her head. “That’s good. Can you see anything at all? Any shapes, light, anything?”

Luna pauses, glances around, squints. I wave a hand in front of her face. Her eyes narrow further and I do it again.

‘I can see something, not much, just movement a little. Was that your…hand?’

I'm thrilled by her response and I squeeze her into a hug. “See? You're going to be okay. I was worried that they might have blinded you,” I admit.

‘Me too,’ Luna agrees.

“But it’s okay. We just have to wait and it will clear up.”

‘Will you stay here until it does?’ Luna asks. ‘Please. I do not like not being able to see.’

“I won't leave your side,” I vow.

Luna nods, smiles. ‘Thank you.’ Her features split into a yawn. We did have a bit of a rude awakening.

“It’s going to be a long day,” I say. “Why don’t you try to take a quick nap? Get a little bit of rest before the tour group gets here. Hopefully you’ll have your sight back by then.”

Luna nods in agreement. She falls against me, her arm draping around my tail, her cheek resting against the scales, as she cuddles into me. I wrap and arm around her shoulders, give her a bit of a squeeze, and curl up in the sand. A soft, silent sigh leave Luna’s lips and it isn't long at all before her breathing deepens. I yawn. Maybe a quick nap isn't a bad idea. I let my eyes slip closed.

 

 **I** wake suddenly to the sound of voices. I bolt upright and glance around, strain to hear what’s going on. Then I spot them. The huge crowd of people hurrying towards our tank. The metal stairs that lead up to the spiraling ramp the wraps around the tank, spiraling from the ground, to the top of the tank will allow the guests a full view. No place to hide for long except the cave. Do that though and we’d catch a lot of hell. Not to mention they’d probably remove the cave structure altogether. I sigh. _Go time._  I gently shake Luna awake. She sits up, her eyes blinking rapidly. “How’s your vision?” I ask her.

She frowns, blinks again, and shakes her head. ‘I can see, but everything is kind of blurry and out of focus.’

“Think you can get around?”

Luna nods. ‘Yes. It is clearing up. I can see much better now.’

“Good, I'm glad. The tour group is here.”

Luna’s eyes widen, worry and shock displayed in them. I glance through the glass, make out the group. They’ve hit the stairs. A familiar face is at the front of the group, waving her hands and talking. I can’t make out what she’s saying. I didn’t know that Jenny would be leading the tours.

‘That is a lot of people,’ Luna comments, sinking low to the sand. I nod, unable to do much else.

“Come on,” I say. “We have to make an appearance anyways. Let’s just go about today as if no one was here.”

Luna nods. ‘Do you want to play a game?’

I glance around, spot a seashell lying in the sand that’s roughly the size of my fist. I scoop it up, grip it between two fingers, and wave it at Luna. “Keep away?” I suggest, my voice low in a challenge.

Luna’s eyes gleam with excitement. I know she enjoys the game. It’s the first one we ever played. ‘You are on!’ her hands move quickly, her competitive streak surfacing. I need no further prompting as I push off the sand and shoot away from her. I swim upside down momentarily in a wide arch over her before diving down sharply through the gap in the floor and entering the lower part of the tank as well as the view of all the people. I quick glance up shows Luna coming through the gap.

Her speed puts me at a disadvantage, but I push myself to go faster none the less. The collective number of gasps of awe ring in my ears along with the scattered comments. Jenny’s voice floats above the rest, filled with a false peppy tone as she clearly repeats well-rehearsed lines.

“These are our two mermaids, Bailey and Suzie. They’ve been with us for two and a half weeks now,” Jenny informs the guests.

“Where in the heavens did you find them?” One older man asks.

“We found Suzie first,” Jenny begins. “She was washed up unconscious on a private beach. The couple that owned the summer home found her and called emergency numbers, believing her to be human at first glance. We were called quickly afterwards. Suzie was drastically underweight and we’re working on getting her weight back to normal, but you can see clearly the unhealthy way her ribs and hips jut out. She’s on a very strict diet designed to bring her weight up quickly and hopefully she’ll be looking much better within a few weeks. Along with her weight, Suzie came to us with a bad eye infection and some problems with her intestinal tract. We’ve actually just applied the last treatment to her eye this morning and as you can see, it’s looking relatively normal now, and her intestines are doing better too. Her inability to keep food down in the beginning was likely the cause of her weight loss to begin with.

“It wasn’t long after that that Bailey was discovered. A storm had trapped her in a rocky pool, where her tail had become pinned under some loosened stones. Unfortunately, Bailey’s fin and the base of her tail were crushed beyond the point of healing. If you watch her, you’ll notice that she can’t swim as fast or gracefully as Suzie. This is because of the irreparable damage done to her fin. We’re working with her, but at this point in time it doesn’t seem likely that she can be fully rehabilitated. Both mermaids are looking to likely remain here for the remainder of their lives. Bailey’s injuries would prevent her from maneuvering open ocean currents and from reaching the speeds necessary to catch her own food. Suzie was likely separated from a mother or pod that we couldn’t hope to find because she’s unable to catch food either. We believe that she hadn’t finished learning the survival skills likely passed down from mermaid to offspring, leaving her vulnerable and defenseless.”

I try not to focus on the lies being fed to the crowd. I can’t hate Jenny for saying them, knowing she’s likely been given a script to follow, but I hate that it makes the scientists here seem like the good guys; like the heroes, when in fact they’re the villainous monsters.

Instead I focus on keeping the seashell out of Luna’s reach. She’s staying hot on my tail, her fingers grazing my fin despite my head start. Then she’s gone, raising up above me and diving down to crash into me, pushing me down against the sand. I laugh, squirming in an attempt to keep the shell out of her reach, and buck in her grip.

“What’s going on?” A woman’s voice shrieks. “Are they attacking each other?” Dread fills me, if the audience panics, that leads to bad feedback and trouble for us.

Jenny doesn’t reply right away, her face fixed on us, concern in her eyes. In a desperate attempt, I reach up and tickle Luna’s sides. She jumps back and I tackle her in return, rolling us over in the water and squeezing her into a hug. She smiles and hugs me back before grapping the shell from my hand and taking off in the opposite direction. I laugh and chase her. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jenny relax.

“No,” she finally answers the woman. “They’re just playing. The two have become very close friends and they often chase each other around. Just like kittens or dogs, sometimes play gets a little rough, but they’d never hurt one another,” she reassures the crowd. I continue to chase Luna around. She darts up through the gap in the ceiling into the upper level. I hesitate to follow her, a plan forming. Instead of chasing her, I press my back against the ceiling and wait.

It only takes Luna a couple of seconds to swim back down. Beneath me, she glances around. I drop down on her back, grab the shell, and dart away, pushing her down in the process. Her surprise gives me a couple of extra seconds to dart away from her. For some reason this earns an applause from the audience.

Jenny chuckles. “Yes, Bailey has shown immense strategizing skills. Her lack of speed doesn’t seem to hinder her in the games her and Suzie play. It’s unfortunate that she can’t use her brain to make up for lost speed in the wild.”

“They’re intelligent then?” My gaze is momentarily drawn to the speaker. Black hair pulled into a tight bun, rectangular rimmed glasses, and a pen and pad in hand. Likely a reporter or journalist of some kind.

I listen for Jenny’s answer. “Mhm, yes, very. They display the same sort of self-awareness and intelligence as dolphins and other advanced marine life.”

The tour group has climbed to the bottom of the upper tank level and I can make out the faces of children and adults, eagerly watching our game. I pick out no familiar faces. My distraction allows Luna the chance to overtake me. Grabbing onto my shoulders, she reaches for the shell. Unwilling to let her win so easily, I twist so she loses her grip. I put on a burst of speed and shoot ahead of her. She doesn’t waste time in pursuing me. As she guns forward, I abruptly stop swimming, drop in the water, and take off in the opposite direction. Unable to turn as quickly, Luna swims past me. She huffs in frustration and turns after me.

Small children begin to cheer us on, rooting for one of us and booing or cheering when Luna manages to claim the shell. Jenny stops the tour and falls silent, allowing them to watch for a while. She gives me a discrete smile and a satisfied nod as I pass by.

I get lucky, steal the shell back, and manage to keep it away from Luna for a while, but it isn't long before she has me pinned against the sand again. I meet her gaze. Her eyes are wide, gleaming with happiness and totally oblivious to the crowd. She doesn’t care that they’re there. Her gills are flaring, showing her exertion. I’m tired to and I fall limp, plead mercy, and let her win. She grins, moves to press a hand against my collarbone with her fingers brushing my throat in a dominant stance, and sticks her tongue out between her fangs. I laugh, shake my head, and sit up, pushing her off me in the process. She sits back on her tail, using her arms to prop herself up, and grins.

I glance at the group. They’ve continued up the winding platform to the open top. I nudge Luna before speaking in a whisper. “Why don’t you show off a little?” I suggest. “Can you do any of those cool acrobatics above the surface like you can beneath it?”

Luna shrugs and nods, tilting her head back to look at the surface. I swim up closer to the surface, I want to watch. Luna pushes up from the sand and, with a powerful flick of her fin, rockets up and breaches the surface. She gains impressive height and curls up, falling backwards into a triple backflip. It sends the crowd into a flurry of cheers, children screaming in delight for her to do it again. Another backflip, a front flip, and a corkscrew quickly follow Luna’s initial trick. As she splashes back down I smile at her. She returns the smile, but makes to move to breach the surface again. It’s clear that she’s done showing off. Instead, she dives down and picks out a large rock to lounge out on, her fin hanging over the edge to brush it the sand; the tips twitching occasionally as she lays out on her stomach. She leans an arm down and begins to doodle in the sand. I flip onto my back, fall limp, and just float in the water; something I’ve discovered to be immensely comfortable and relaxing.

“That was impressive,” a voice states. “Are they trained?”

“No,” Jenny replies. “We want to start working with them in that manor once they’re both healthy, but Suzie seems to enjoy acrobatics because she does occasionally show off. It’s just a matter of getting lucky enough to be around when she does it.”

“I wish we could see them up close and out of the water,” the voice sounds younger, a child.

“Maybe you can,” Jenny states. “Maybe I can coax one of them up to the surface. But you can’t crowd them,” she warns. “They aren’t used to large crowds.” I watch as she bends down, whistles, and puts her hand in the water, moving it to indicate come. I sigh. I really don’t want to do this. I ignore her and wait to see what happens. Jenny whistles again, sharper this time. No longer a request, unmistakably a command. I sigh again and consider if it’s worth the rebellion. No probably not.

I glare at the surface. _Whose side are you on anyways?_ I swim up to the surface, hesitate, and then break it. Jenny smiles at me, an approval. “Hey Bailey!” She exclaims happily, splashing the water. “You want to come say hello to everyone?” I swim up to her, fix her a glare, but remain where I am. She pats the deck. “Come on.” I lean against the deck, brace my arms, and lift my tail out far enough to sit on the deck. Jenny pushes me down onto my stomach, lifts the rest of my tail out of the water.

“She certainly seems very used to you,” the voice comes from the woman whom I’ve dubbed a reporter.

“Yes,” Jenny replies. “I’m one of their handlers. I’ve spent a lot of time down here with them.”

“Can I touch her?” A little boys asks, he’s hanging from his mother, who’s holding him back.

Jenny shakes her head. “No, sorry bud, but she’s not tame. They’re not like cats or dogs, they can lash out and I don’t want you getting hurt. That and their skin is far more sensitive than ours, especially to chemicals and lotions. You can make them sick if they come in contact with something on your hands. I know what’s on mine and that it’s okay, but even leftover toothpaste could be harmful.”

“Oh,” the boy seems to deflate. “Okay then.”

“But you can feed her if you want to,” Jenny states quickly.

“Really?”

“Yes, and children who want to feed her, make a line,” she instructs. All of the children eagerly push into a line. There’s about ten of them in total. Jenny waves the little boy forward first. “What’s your name?” She asks.

“Jeremy,” the boy responds as he bounces eagerly from toe to toe.

“Alright Jeremy, I need you to put these on okay?” She hands him a thick pair of gloves. He slides them on. They’re way too big for his hands, but he doesn’t seem to care. Jenny pulls out a plastic bag full of apple slices and removes two. She hands them to the little boy. I stare at the fruit, wanting it very badly. The past almost three weeks of nothing but fish and shellfish has left a huge gaping desire, even if it’s for a simple, common fruit. I eye the bag eagerly. Jenny laughs. “Bailey loves fruit, Jeremy, so we’re going to give her a treat. Crouch down in front of her. She won’t hurt you, just make sure you stay still and don’t try to keep it from her.”

Jeremy does as instructed, crouching down so that his dark brown eyes meet my gaze. He’s got a smile a mile long. “Hi, Bailey,” he says happily. He extends his hand, shaking slightly, and offers me the apples slices. I reach out an arm, pluck them from his open palm, and pop them in my mouth. As I eat them, Jeremy reaches out his hand a little further, reaching towards my head.

“Jeremy,” Jenny warns. She grabs his arm, stops him. “You have to be careful. She’s still a wild animal.” I nearly choke on my apple slice.

Wild? What, does she expect me to lash out at a little boy to show my displeasure for what they’ve done? I snort, fix her a glare, and nearly show my fangs before I remember the audience.

I am not a mindless beast, certainly not dangerous to a child. I fix my gaze on him, eager to prove it, show her up and prove her wrong. He can’t be older than seven and he reminds me of a little boy I used to babysit; Davey. Mind made up, I reach out and pull him towards me. His mother gasps in fear, stumbles forward. I ignore her and meet Jeremy’s gaze before kissing his nose. He squeals in delight as I let him go and scurries back to his mother. “Mommy, mommy, did you see?” He exclaims excitedly. His mother nods, looking relieved and amazed. I fix Jenny with another glare, feeling stinging betrayal burn its way inside me. I thought I could trust her, thought she was my friend. She promised me in the beginning she’d be someone who wouldn’t look at me like a stupid animal. I feel that promise has been broken and I’ve had enough of playing the pet today. I show her my fangs, barely hold back the hiss I so badly want to throw her way, and dive back into the water. There are some disappointed cries from the children, but I’m in no mood to entertain. Luna swims up to me, concern etched into her features.

‘What is wrong?’ She asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing, I’m just done playing pet today is all.”

Luna glances up at the surface, probably listening to Jenny trying to call me back, children begging disappointedly. She winces. ‘They will not be happy.’

“You go up there then!” I snap, turning on her. Luna recoils, hurt and shock radiating from her.

‘I… did not mean to upset you, I only meant…’ Luna doesn’t bother finishing her thoughts.

I rush over and hug her, burying my nose in her hair. “I'm sorry; I didn’t mean to snap at you, it’s not your fault. I’m just feeling a little cranky today. I'm sorry.” I mean the words, tighten my grip around her. Though I’ll never admit it openly, I can feel my resolve cracking. I’m starting to fall apart. I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of insanity and I just want to go home.


	11. Us Against The World

     **Luna**

    

    I sigh and redirect my gaze to Katie. We’re lying in the cave, me on my belly, her on her back. She’s staring up at the ceiling, has been for a while now. She’s tense and clearly still unhappy. I want to comfort her, but at the same time she seems to be on the verge of lashing out and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of her anger. Besides, I think I would only make things worse; she needs time to calm down. Still, I continue to watch her out of the corner of my eye. I do not know what transpired up above that upset her, but I am very familiar with the anger inside her. The kind where you are not truly angry, but it is easier to avoid the pain, sadness, and fear, by choosing something to hate instead. It does not work for very long and quickly leads to despair. Which is why I am sticking close, to offer her comfort should she begin to break down. I watch as this begins to happen.

    One moment she’s staring at the roof of the cave, the next she’s shuddering, eyes closed, her hand against her mouth, as a sob escapes her. Another, followed by a soft whimper. I wiggle closer to her, take her arm, and sit up, bringing her with me. I envelope her in an embrace. The really big and special kind that she often wraps me into. The kind that squeezes you just a little too tight and makes you feel safe and loved and like everything is going to be okay. I make no move to do anything further, just hold her and let her cry. It’s something that she needs to do.

    It takes her a few minutes to calm down, sobs dying to soft hiccups, and pull away, wiping at her eyes. “I'm sorry,” she whispers. “It shouldn’t be this way. I should be the one comforting you. I don’t understand how you are still sane. It’s only been a few weeks and I'm barely holding it together and they’ve hardly even done anything to me; at least in comparison to you-”

    I cut her off there. ‘Do not feel like you cannot be sad around me. What has been done to you is awful. I have had a very long time to get used to it, but it is a very fresh wound for you. You have had everything ripped from you, including your body, your form. They changed your species and have locked you away; that is hard. Do not feel bad.’

    “I still don’t understand how you’ve managed to keep it together,” Katie whispers. “You’ve been here so much longer, been through so much worse. How are you not curled up in a fetal position, rocking back and forth, spouting nonsense?”

    I stare at my scales and shrug. I won’t tell her that she isn't far from the truth. Before she came, I pretty much was on the brink of insanity, cowering, lashing out randomly, lost within my own mind without thoughts or feelings except the pain... I still feel that way, but I also feel like I’ve got a lifeline now that Katie is here. ‘I know you feel like you are dangling over a cliff of insanity, I feel that way too, every day. Since you got here, while I still feel that way, I also feel less likely to fall. You will not fall ever, because I am never going to let go of your hand,’ the promise sounds dorky, but I make it anyways because I mean it and because she deserves it. ‘We cannot let one another fall because we’re all we have. It is just the two of us against everyone else.’

    Katie wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to her side. I lean into her and rest my head on her shoulder. “Yeah, you're definitely right about that,” she pauses, rubs my arm. “I was hoping I might recognize someone in the crowd today,” she admits quietly.

    ‘I was hoping someone might recognize you,’ I reply.

    Katie shrugs. “I don’t know, I mean I was hoping for it too, but they might be hard-pressed to recognize me. I don’t look the same anymore.”

    I frown. ‘Because of the tail? They could still recognize you could they not?’

    “That’s not what I mean. They changed my appearance. My face doesn’t look the same,” she states.

    ‘How?’

    “My hair used to be shorter, only came to my shoulder blades. I liked it better that way. On you it looks really pretty, but I can’t stand having this much hair, it’s always in my face. They changed the color too. My hair was never this dark, it’s actually a dirty-blonde; natural streaks of blonde and brown all mixed in together. It was much lighter that way. My hair wasn’t ever this dark even when it was wet. They added the freckles too,” she explains, tapping the brown dots on her face. “They did it so that people would have a hard time recognizing me.”

    I nod. ‘I am sorry. You still look pretty though.’

    Katie laughs a little. “Thanks Luna, but I don’t really care how it looks, I'm just upset because it isn't me, that’s all.”

    I'm about to reply when my stomach interrupts me, choosing this moment to gurgle loudly. Katie glances at me, then suddenly bursts out laughing. I stare at her, slightly confused. She continues to laugh for a few minutes before calming.

    “I'm sorry,” she gasps. “It’s just, it was such a serious conversation and then your-” she breaks off in another small fit of giggles. I shake my head even as a grin spreads across my face.

    ‘You are crazy,’ I tell her.

    She laughs again. “Maybe.” She giggles once more as my belly growls. “Getting hungry?” She asks.

    I nod sheepishly. A sharp whistle echoes through the tank, causing Katie to glance up. ‘Do you think that is the woman who brings food?’ I ask.

    “Probably,” Katie mutters. “I don’t really want to see her right now, but I don’t think we get a choice if we want to eat. Come on,” she sighs and pushes off from the sand. I follow her, flicking my fin as we swim from the cave and up towards the surface.

    It isn't just the woman up there though, one of the scientists is there too. It isn’t Dr. Patron, but the other one, the one who brought Katie here in first place. I sink low into the water, he doesn’t look happy. Katie breaks the surface after me and her gaze darkens.

    “Ah, there you are, I wanted to have a chat,” Dr. Auldon says, his gaze fixed on Katie.

    She swallows. “What about? I thought you didn’t want me talking to anyone.”

    “I'll make an exception. I want to talk about you. And about your behavior today.” Katie swallows again and licks her lips, I see her struggle to maintain eye contact with the scientist. She doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t seem to need a response because he continues anyways. “I'm going to start with some questions. They’ll be simple and I want them answered. Truthfully. Am I understood?”

    Katie nods. “Yes,” she whispers quietly.

    “Good. Now where should I start? How about before the opening. Were you not given a gift? One to give to your mother?”

    “Yes,” Katie whispers. “And I’m grate-”

    “You’ll do well to just answer my questions. I don’t care about extra comments. Now, that gift was expensive, and a show of Miss Barnes’ generosity. Do you know what a show of my generosity was?” He demands.

    “Umm-”

    She’s interrupted again. “My show of generosity was agreeing to it. Paying for her to fly down there to give it to Sophie Brooks in person. Not only that, but I gave you the chance to connect to your past one last time. Went against everyone’s better judgement and gave you back your humanity in a form of free expression, even allowing you to write,” saliva is flying from his mouth by this point. “Wasn’t that kind of me?”

     I see Katie’s fists clench, notice the tightness of her jaw. She seems to be struggling to hold back her anger. “Yes,” she manages, her voice still slightly edged. “It was.”

    “And I do remember asking for something in return, nothing big, just your cooperation, did I not?”

    “Yes,” Katie replies.

    “Yes, I know. I wanted you to cooperate, fall into the role that I’d lay out for you. I wanted you to do nothing more than what you were told. At any point when those terms were explained to you, were any of them unclear?”

    “No,” Katie mutters.

    “Hmm, so you understood perfectly well. Good. But that brings me to my dilemma. Today. So let’s talk about today. How many times did your collar activate today?”

    Katie seems thrown off by the question. She’s silent for a moment as she thinks back. “Once? No, twice,” she decides.

    Dr. Auldon nods. “Twice, can you explain to me why it activated on each of those separate occasions?”

    “Once this morning. Someone was whistling, trying to call us up. It woke both of us up. We weren’t fast enough getting to the surface,” she says. “The other time was before the opening, when we were being…prepped? I don’t know what you want to call it. Anyways, someone was washing my fin. It hurt, startled me, and I tried to pull away.”

    Dr. Auldon nods. “Well, it seems like they may have been accidents then, not purposeful rebellion, so I might be willing to overlook them. But that’s not the only concern I have. Let’s jump forward to the opening. It started off quite well. I was happy to hear of the little game you played, it was quite entertaining for the guests. Then things went downhill didn’t they. Now, were you called to the surface?”

    “Yes.”

    “Did you go?”

    “Yes.”

    “Good. See now that is good behavior. Now, did you leave early?”

    Katie hesitates. “Yes, I did.”

    “Did you have permission to leave early?”

    “No.”

    “So you went of your own accord. Did you hear Miss Barnes calling you back up?”

    “Yes.”

    “Did you go?”

    “No.”

    “Was there anything that happened that might have hindered your ability to obey? Any way that you didn’t understand what was being asked of you?”

    “No,” Katie mutters. She’s taken to staring at the water.

    “So you purposely disobeyed a command and left a lot of disappointed guests on the viewing platform. Do you see my dilemma now?” Katie doesn’t reply. “That isn't something I can tolerate. I thought you were aware that actions have consequences, but it seems that I’ll have to drill it into your head. You will be punished for your wrongs today, you know that right?”

    Katie bites her lip, hesitates, and nods her head.

    “Are you going to give me a hard time about it?”

    “No,” she whispers.

    “Excellent. Get out of the water.” Katie hesitates again, but braces her arms against the side and hauls herself out of the water. I follow her actions, not wanting to leave her. “I have decided on your punishment already, and I’m not happy because it means that I have to close this tank for a few weeks.”

    “What? Why?”

    “Because you’ll need time to heal before you can be viewed by the public again.”

    His words send a rocket of fear through me.  _Please do not do that to her._

    He kneels down, grabs Katie’s chin and forces her to look at him. “I didn’t want Dr. Patron to have access to you without permission. You are my creation after all. And I was being kind enough to spare you that sort of pain, but perhaps it is what you need to realize your place. So I’ve giving him four hours. Four hours of free time where he can fillet you any way he likes as long as there’s no permanent damage and you can be healed within three weeks. And since I don’t like to waste time, you're going to forgo your meal so he can get started right away. And since Dr. Patron likes to set an example, your little friend is going too. She’ll be spared the knife, but she’ll watch the same way you were made too. Which means that your actions have deprived her of her meal too. Know that, Bailey. That you’ve let poor little Suzie down. She seems to trust you so much, she’s so loyal following you around the way she does. Now she’s going to suffer with you.”

    Katie doesn’t reply, she’s too busy staring at the ground. She wets her lips. “Please, don’t make her go, I promise I'll accept the consequences and I'll do better, I swear. Just don’t make her go back down there. Let her stay here and eat, she didn’t do anything wrong,” she begs. I stare at her in shock. It’s her I'm worried about. Forgoing food for a day is not a big deal for me, she is about to experience the most intense pain of her life yet she’s trying to defend me? I wish I could stop this, but many tries before leaves me knowing there’s nothing I can do.

    “Sorry,  _Bailey_ , but you don’t get to make requests or deals. You are right, you will accept the consequences and you will do better or I will punish you again. And Suzie going with you is part of your punishment. Your actions have shown me how much you care for her, so from now on, she is going to shoulder some of your punishment. Don’t mess up and it will happen rarely. Remember that.”

    Katie shudders nervously, her shoulders slumping into a defeated posture. Her gaze flits around the people on the deck, finally settling on the woman who feeds us, whom Katie always spoke to. The woman always had a relatively friendly demeanor about her, but that has changed now. I study the woman too, for a moment. Her arms are crossed over her chest, her posture straight and tense, as though she is trying to appear even taller. She looks down her nose at my friend and snorts. “I don’t know why you’re looking at me. I’m not going to save you. You got yourself into this mess.”

    The venom in the woman’s tone has Katie pulling back a little, and I bristle, curling my fingers into fists and fighting back a hiss. It would only make things worse. From the corner of my eye, I see Katie chew her lip. “I wasn’t asking you to-”

    The woman cuts her off with a cruel chuckle. “To help you? No, but you were hoping I would come to your rescue, weren’t you? Sorry  _sweetheart,_ but we’re not really friends, and you’re hardly worth sacrificing my career over. I got what I wanted out of you, out from underneath that witch’s thumb. Working for that old hag was such a drag, and the hours were terrible. But now I’m in a much better place. And I figured you’d be much easier to control if you thought someone cared, so I played things up a little.” Again, more barking laughter rings out from the woman. “But they’re going to break you into submission anyways, so there’s no reason for me to waste my breath anymore. You’ve got Suzie now, you hardly need my shoulder, even if you are still just a sniveling little brat. Time to accept your place and stop trying to be so human. We all know you’re not, little fish.”

    Katie’s eyes are brimming with tears and her tail pulls closer against her body, but before she can speak, the scientist holds up a hand for silence. “Ms. Barnes, please. I know you have some pent up frustrations to release, but now is not the ideal time. I’d like to get this over with.”

    The woman nods and waves a hand. “Of course, sir, I got to say my piece anyway, I’m done now,” she states. Offering Katie a cruel smile and a wink, she turns on her heel and walks away. Once again, I smother a growl, far less concerned with her than with the man before us.

    The scientist rises from his crouched position. “Go ahead and take them now. They’re all yours for the evening.” I jump, startled, when two people descend upon us almost instantly. One is a man I know too well; Dr. Patron’s helper. The other is new, a blonde girl that seems to be between eighteen and twenty. The girl looks nervous; she probably hasn’t been here long. Her hands are covered by thick gloves, yet her arms are shaking slightly as she takes hold of me. She loops an arm around my waist and hoists me into the air with a grunt, her other arm grabbing my neck to try to hold me still.

    I lash my tail, hiss angrily, and buck in her grip. She stumbles to the gurney and practically drops me on it. “How do you want her restrained?” She asks.

    “Have her on her stomach, restrain her at the waist, close to the fin, and both wrists,” comes Dr. Auldon’s reply. The girl’s hands return, pressing down on my spine to hold me down so she can strap me down. Determined not to make it easy, I twist and buck, lashing my tail and hissing sharply. I twist around, attempt to roll over and sit up so I can give her a good look at my fangs. She grunts, shoves me back down, and pins my neck with one hand. She uses the other to quickly draw a restraint around my waist and tighten it. Her task done, she releases my neck and moves to restrain my tail. When she moves in front of me, I cross my arms and snarl at her, knowing that she’ll be reluctant to get close. I’m right and she hesitates, eyeing my fangs warily. Then I feel another hand take hold of my neck, pressing the chain into my skin.

    “Go ahead,” a gruff voice says. “She can’t get you.” The woman nods her thanks and pulls my arms out enough that she can cuff both my wrists to the table. I’m then released. “Just remember that she can’t do much damage. She’s been here a long time, likes to try to frighten you off, but she tends to cower when you show her who’s in charge.” He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls, making my eyes water. “Now keep an eye on her while I get the other one.” I watch him move to Katie, who meets me gaze. Her eyes are wide with fear and sorrow, and I wish I could comfort her.

    The man, Thomas I think his name was, grabs her in a similar manner that the woman did to me, looping an arm around her waist and holding her head down. She doesn’t fight him. He plops her down on a gurney, rolls her onto her back, and begins to strap her down. He cuffs her wrists, the base of her fin, and lightly tightens a restraint around her neck so she can’t sit up. His job is done very quickly as Katie offers no resistance. I wince at how few restraints have been applied to Katie. In my experience, the fewer there are, the more he intends to open. Once Katie’s been strapped down, our gurneys are wheeled away down the hall. I close my eyes, unwilling to watch the never-ending, familiar hallways roll by.

    My heart clenches when we stop, because I know where we are. I open my eyes and glance around. Thomas and the other girl are both pulling on plastic gloves and Dr. Patron has his back to us as he gazes at a countertop, probably looking over his tools. Katie has paled considerably, her breathing hitching.

    The woman brushes her finger over Katie’s brow. “So, she’s the one that you created right? The younger one is the real deal?”

    “Yes, Elizabeth, Bailey is the copy,” Dr. Patron replies.

    “An impressive one,” Elizabeth murmurs as she traces Katie’s scale line. 

    “Indeed,” Dr. Patron agrees. “But we have to fix her mentality, because it is clearly flawed.” He places a scalpel on Katie’s belly and she tenses up. I feel my own muscles clench, as though it could already feel the cold pain of the blade. I know I’ve been spared that pain today and would be grateful for it, if it didn’t mean it fell on Katie. The only person I care about, the only one who cares about me.

    “We aren’t really going to cut her open to punish her are we?” Elizabeth asks. “I thought that was just to scare her.”

    “We’re quite serious around here, Elizabeth. Besides, pain makes an excellent teacher. Now, where should we begin?”

    I pull and thrash in my restraints, desperate to pull free and try to defend my friend. My struggling is noticed by Dr. Patron. He walks up to me, a menacing look on his face. I can’t help but begin to cower. I sink low, fix my gaze on him, and show my fangs, but it’s more a fearful warning than a threat and I hate that he has this much control over me that a look alone can spark fear inside me. He grabs my chin, steadies my gaze to meet his and strokes the side of my face, almost lovingly. It causes an icy shudder to run the length of my spine. “Hush now,” his words are soft, almost caring. I wince, feel myself deflate. When he’s nice like this, he gets extra violent afterwards. “You’re not in any danger today my pet, you can relax. You’ve been a good girl. I heard you had a little incident this morning, but I'll overlook it; you’ve always hated people poking at your face and teeth. And your little show with you flips and spins makes me proud. I may even reward you.” I pull away from his grip, supress another shiver, and redirect my gaze to Katie. Dr. Patron follows my gaze. “She’s in trouble. She’ll get what she deserves and if you remain good, you’ll get what you deserve. You’ll like it much better I promise.”

    He doesn’t spare me another glance as he walks back over to Katie. His eyes wander her body for a few heartbeats, and then he pulls out a black marking stick similar to the one Katie used a little while ago when she did that gift for her mother.

    “Where do you think?” He directs the words to Elizabeth. “We can open wherever we like, any suggestions? I definitely want to go up the middle.” He drags the marking stick up Katie, from her hips to the top of her throat, leaving a black line on her skin. She shudders, becomes even paler. I chew my lip. I haven’t a clue as to how I can convey any form of comfort to her, don’t know what I could do that would help anyways. I watch as Thomas leans over to stare at the line Dr. Patron made. He grunts.

    “Maybe leave out the throat,” he states. “It’s fun and all, but it’s messy and slow-going, we shouldn’t waste any time.”

    “Hmm, true,” Dr. Patron agrees. He licks his thumb, smudges out the line on Katie’s neck.

    “What about the arms instead? Again we’d have to stay away from the wrists, but there’s still a fair bit of nerves up the elbow. We could start about ten centimeters from the wrist and go up the inside of either one or both arms.”

    Dr. Patron laughs. “I absolutely love your thinking Thomas, I really do.” He adds two more lines, one up each of Katie’s arms. “Now what about the tail? Think we’d have time?”

    “Oh, yeah,” Thomas agrees. “This is punishment right?”

    “Yes, it is. What are you thinking?”

    “That we start with the tail, but do the back end of it. That way we do the tail, stitch it closed, and flip her over to do the front. Since her weight will rest on her injury, it will add to her pain for quite a while. We’ll just have to make sure she’s well secured while healing so she doesn’t irritate the wounds.”

    “I'm very proud of you Thomas. I remember your first day in here, with Suzie. You were as pale and shaky as Miss Elizabeth is now. You’ve certainly grown to a hardened man of science.”

    Thomas grunts in acknowledgement and moves away.

    “Elizabeth, if you would be so kind as to flip Bailey over and restrain her. She shouldn’t give you any trouble.”

    Elizabeth swallows. “I'm not sure about all of this,” she admits. “This seems really… cruel and not related to science in any way. This girl is intelligent and aware, and this is wrong.”

    Dr. Patron wipes his scalpel with a cloth, holds it up to inspect it, and continues wiping it. “Here’s what you need to understand; we can do this with or without you. I’m training you as a new assistant because Thomas is accepting a job at the University in Colorado now that he’s received his degree, something he accomplished through working with me. But I can do my job without you and will simply find a more eager grad student if you cannot perform. So it comes down to how much you desire this job and the recommendations that come with it, because the door is right there and you can leave any time.”

    Elizabeth hesitates, chews her lip, then sighs and begins to remove Katie’s restraints. My friend doesn’t make any move to help the woman and roll over, but she also doesn’t put up a fight as Elizabeth lifts her and shifts her onto her belly. Katie turns her head to the side, meets my gaze. She looks frightened. I long to reach out to her, even lift my fingers in her direction, and open my mouth with the intention of mouthing a word or two of comfort to her. I pause. I have no idea what to say, no idea how to comfort her because really there is nothing I can say that will make this go away or seem any better. I know she notices my hesitation. She falls completely limp, defeated, with tears shining in her eyes. Her eyelids slip closed and she doesn’t reopen them. The scientists are prepping their equipment. Soon the scale slicing blade is positioned above Katie’s tail, just as it was mine a few weeks ago. Thomas offers Dr. Patron and Elizabeth small orange pebbles. Two of which he’s shoved into his ears.

    “You might want these.”

    Dr. Patron accepts two and puts them in his ears. “Always thinking ahead. Elizabeth, put them on so your ears aren’t damaged. Thomas, would you be kind enough to put some on Suzie? Her hearing is very sensitive, it echoes in here, and I don’t want to have to deal with her eardrum bursting like it did a few years ago.”

    Thomas approaches me and pushes my head down. I hiss angrily and pull against him. He shoves two of the orange things in my ears. They are not hard like I expected and are instead soft and spongy. Once they’re in place, he releases me and moves to join the others.

The blade starts. I squeeze my eyes shut, look away. But while I can close my eyes, the orange noise suppressors cannot block the sound of Katie’s scream reverberating off the walls.  
  


 

 

**A warning to everyone reading this story; the first part of the next chapter is going to be a bit heavier on the gory and dark/violent side. If this content makes you uncomfortable, there will be a designated (...) in bold in the center of the page next update to show where that part of the content ends. You would only miss some Mer anatomy details and further exploration rather than major plot points, so feel free to scroll ahead if you feel the need. If not, have at it.  
-Fantasy Ocean**


	12. A Cruel Punishment

**(This chapter has scenes of violence and torture and is a little more graphic. If you are sensitive to this content, please feel free to skip down to the designated (...) that signals the end of that component of the chapter. You will miss nothing more than a bit of Mer anatomy.)**      
  
  
  **Katie**

    

    There’s a tightness in my chest, an inability to breathe as I scream, unable to stop. My fingernails break, splintering like slivers of wood under pressure as I claw at the metal edge of the gurney. The pain is unbearable, like nothing I’ve ever felt. It makes the formation of the tail seem like a papercut or a stubbed toe. This is pure agony and I’d do just about anything right now to get it to stop. The blade continues to cut though, heedless to my pain. The constant whirring drumming in my ears as it slices mercilessly. Scales, skin, flesh, muscle and nerves, all severed by the hellish device. My scream dies off in a fit of coughs. I strain, try to pull away. The whirring stops as the blade is turned off, but it doesn’t take the pain away. I feel cold metal touch my burning flesh, sending a new icy pain rocketing through me. I scream again as the incision is stretched, opened further.

    “The biological structure is quite fascinating when you take the time to examine it properly. Despite the complete skeleton of the upper body, the only true bone in the tail is the end of the spine, which only extends a few inches down. The rest are a few structural cartilage bones that only act as structures for the muscle to attach to. The entire tail is incredibly flexible and is solid muscle. It cushions a few organs, like this one here,” Dr. Patron pauses his lecture like description to shove his hand past several connected muscles. I screech in pain as he does. He pokes something inside of me and it twists my gut into a knot. “Look closely Elizabeth, how are you supposed to learn anything that way? This is the swim bladder. It isn't used quite as often as it is in fish, but it is used to sustain a neutral buoyancy that allows them to float in midwater.”

    “Go ahead and touch it,” Thomas encourages. “Feels a lot like rubber.”

    “That’s okay,” Elizabeth refuses. “I think I’ll just watch for now.”

    There’s more poking and shoving as Dr. Patron rummages through the muscles in my tail. I bite my lip and try not to cry out again. As he pushes and pulls at the different muscles in my tail, I feel my stomach tighten, my throat close up. I'm going to be sick. A loud ringing noise hazes over my hearing. My eyes find Luna’s. Her wide eyes are brimming with moisture, though she doesn’t let the tears fall as she keeps her gaze fixed on mine. I stare back at her, unable to do anything else and desperate for a distraction.

    It doesn’t last very long and my mind is quickly drawn back to reality, back to the pain. At least Dr. Patron has stopped lecturing and moved away. For a few heartbeats, no one touches me. Then a pair of hands return, tugging the edges of the opening closed. I wince at the first poke of the needle.

    I force myself to breathe. I’ve had stitches before, more times than I care to admit even to myself. I take another breath; tighten my grip on the corner of the gurney. As long as I focus on the slight familiar motion of the stitching, rather than the actual pain, I can handle this.

    “She’s taking this part remarkably well,” Thomas comments.

    “She’s probably had stitches before, probably a couple of times,” Elizabeth offers, her voice still shaky.

    “Yes, it is a strong possibility,” Dr. Patron replies. His voice sounds darker than before, as though the knowledge of this displeases him. My thoughts are confirmed when there’s a sharp, jabbing pain, as he sticks me painfully with the thick needle. I yelp, jerk slightly, and bite my lip. I wince as my fangs slice through the skin. “That’s better.” He resumes with his stitching, pausing occasionally to stick me again.

    By the time he’s closed off the last stitch and cut the thread, I’m quivering, tears slipping down my cheeks in well-defined tracks. I chew the inside of my cheek. I want desperately for this to be over, but I know it has barely begun. A few very long, sticky bandages are pressed down the length of my tail.

    “There,” Dr. Patron pats my tail rather firmly, stealing a whimper from me. “Wouldn’t want the stitches to tear, now would we?”

    “No, I suppose not,” Elizabeth agrees.

    “Would you be so kind as to flip her over now, dear? I don’t want to waste any time and we’re already almost halfway through our time as it is.”

    I can hear the clear hesitation in her voice as Elizabeth responds. “Yeah, sure, of course.”

    She removes my restraints, all of them, without hesitation as though she already knows I'll offer no resistance. As she forces me to roll over, I nearly burst into tears all over again. The second my tail touches the metal; pain erupts from the long appendage. I arch my back, taking all my weight onto my arms and the base of my fin in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure. Elizabeth chews her lip for a moment, the places a hand on my tail and pushes me down. I cry out and fight her then, jerk in her grip and roll onto my side.

    A hand grabs a fistful of my hair and tugs me back. “Don’t you give her a hard time now,” Thomas threatens as he yanks my hair again, pulling me back onto my back. I pull against him again, try desperately to get onto my side. Thomas begins to pull me back once more and I claw frantically at the gurney.

    “No, please,” I beg between gasps. “Please don’t. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll be good, I promise, just please don’t make me put weight on it. Please stop, I’m sorry.” I squeeze my eyes shut, cling to the rail. My shock collar activates. I'm not surprised, I knew it would the second I spoke out, but I can't stay quiet any longer, I’ve lost all sense of reason. Then there’s a hand in my hair again, but instead of pulling, it strokes; smooths my hair down gently like a parent would comfort their child. Dr. Patron continues to pat my head, even as he enters my view. He grips my chin in his free hand, forces me to meet his gaze.

    “Hush now,” he says, speaking slowly. He continues to stroke my head. “I know you’re sorry.” I feel relief flood me, hope fills me at the chance he might let off. “I know that you were sorry the second that you felt the blade. But there’s a difference between being sorry and learning. And I'm not sure you’ve learned your lesson.”

    I feel my eyes water again. I shake my head. “No, I have, I promise. Please, I'll be good, just make it stop, I'll be good, I promise. I'll do what I'm told and be better. I won't be any trouble.” I mean the words as they spill from my mouth. At this moment I know I'll do just about anything to get them to stop. He’s right, pain is an immense eye opener, and I have no resolve left to fight.

    “I don’t believe you,” Dr. Patron states, his grip on my hair tightening. I wince, despair settling inside of me. “I don’t believe you because you are still causing trouble, still disobeying, and you certainly haven’t slipped into your role yet. You will though, by time I’ve finished.”

    I chew my lip. I don’t reply, I can’t. I hiccup softly, try to choke back a sob and still my shaking. My gaze is still fixed on his, his hand still holding my chin in place, but I can’t bear to look at him, at the man that takes so much pleasure in hurting Luna and I. More tears well up in my eyes and I try to blink them away. Tears won’t help me and I hate that he can see my weaknesses. He grins. “I suppose I can offer you a chance though. Do you want to try and prove to me that you’ve learned your lesson?”

    That stupid spark of hope ignites inside me once more and I open my mouth to answer him, my head beginning to nod, when I freeze, mouth still hanging open. I close it before words can escape. It makes sense now, this being part of his test. He doesn’t want me to answer him, because he doesn’t want me to speak, appear human. I chew my cheek, think it over, then simply bow my head and go mostly limp. He laughs.

    “Good, I see you're catching on at least. But that’s not good enough. I need to see more than your willingness to comply, I need to see obedience, plain and simple, even if it’s something you don’t want to do. That will prove to me that you’ve learned. So let’s try it,” his voice turns icy, “Roll over.”

    I freeze, barely supress another whimper. There’s no way out of this, just like there was no way out of the transformation, and the more I fight, the more it will hurt. I gather what little, torn shreds of courage I have left, and slowly, gently shift onto my side, then my back. I grit my teeth against the pressure, the pain, try to block it out. Dr. Patron straps me down once more and strokes the side of my face. “Good girl,” he purrs. “That’s better. You're getting there. And for that, I’ll shave half an hour off your punishment. But, I want you to finish your punishment silently. For every whimper, scream, or sound you make, I'll add five minutes back on. If you reach your maximum time once more, I’ll add another cut for each outburst. You understand?”

    I try desperately not to cry again, not to start begging.

    “Answer me!”

    I jump, startled by the sharpness of his tone. I nod my head, afraid that actually speaking would condemn me.

    “Better. Let’s get started then.” I force myself to keep my eyes open; I want to know what’s coming. Dr. Patron lifts a scalpel from his table of tools and I feel the blood drain from my face. I swallow heavily. He hands the tiny instrument to Elizabeth. She looks almost as pale and uncomfortable as I feel. Dr. Patron motions to me. “Why don’t you start us off? Start at the hips, follow the black line straight up.”

    “But, I haven’t got any training,” Elizabeth protests. “At least not with something this big and this… alive, I don’t want to damage her.”

    “Consider this your training, I’m watching, it will be fine. Just don’t press in too deep; just under half the blade is all that should go in.”

    I see her clear hesitation before she seems to pull herself together. The blade is frigid against my skin and it stings as it breaks my skin. The pain rapidly grows worse at it pierces deeper. I suck in a breath, hold it, and try to keep quiet. Just an hour. One hour, that’s it, I tell myself as she cuts further up, opening an incision up to the scales on my chest.

    “That will do,” Dr. Patron states. “The loss of time means we’ll have to avoid the arms and chest today. Open it up, will you?” I feel the same cold metal as before, then the agony of them stretching the skin back, revealing my internal organs. I feel like one of the dissection rats from biology. Then gloved hands begin to poke and prod inside. “I'm sure you can identify most of these organs, yes?”

    “Uh-huh,” Elizabeth confirms. “Is that the spleen? It’s on the wrong side.”

    “Yes, a few organs have shifted position, but the anatomy is relatively the same.  Can you identify this?” He jabs me and I wince, barely contain a whimper.

    “That’s the stomach,” Elizabeth replies. “It’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be.”

    “Yes, it is. In fact, it’s one of the features that makes these creatures so unique. Everything they eat is fully digested. What common organ do you notice is missing from their anatomy?”

    “Umm,” Elizabeth leans over to examine closer. “The large intestine, I don’t see it.”

    “Precisely. That’s because they do not have one. These creatures don’t produce waste. No urine, no feces. They digest absolutely everything.”

    “Wow,” Elizabeth murmurs. The information interests me too. Of course it has been something I’ve worried about, but I’ve never mentioned it to Luna. At least now I don’t have to be concerned that there’s something wrong with me. “But how is it possible for them to do that? I mean, surely they cannot digest the cellulose in kelp or the different fats and such in the clams and fish. Nutrients are drained from the food, but the chunk itself cannot be digested right?”

    “Not for us, no, but their stomachs are different. They’re bigger because they hold six different chambers, each for digesting more and more of the food eaten. It’s really quite fascinating and may make more sense when I show you. Hand me the scalpel please.” I tense in fear, preparing for more pain.

    But I couldn’t have possibly been prepared, everything up until this moment becomes minor in comparison to the abrupt and searing agony that tears through my body without mercy. I can’t hold it in and a bloodcurdling wail escapes my throat. My vision clouds over with a swarm of angry black dots seconds before...

     

     **(…)**

    

     **Water**. It’s the first thing I become aware of as I come to. I crack open my eyes, expecting the bright lights of that awful lab room. Instead, I'm met with silence and gloom. The room is dark, but a large glass window showing the lit hallway outside the room makes it a gloomy shadow over actual darkness. Everything is quite, and most of the pain has faded to a dull throb. I'm lying on my side, my head submerged, in a small, lidless, tank. I brush the pads of my fingers against the smooth glass. My fingernails are cracked and broken, little beads of blood pooling under the nail from clawing at the metal. It’s what I get for doing that, I suppose. White dressings are wrapped around my torso from the bottom of my chest scales, down to the start of my tail. These bandages, like the sticky patch like ones on my tail, are clearly waterproof because they aren’t coming loose or allowing blood to leak through. I sigh and shift slightly, wincing as the action causes pain to lace its way through my injuries. My body’s way of reminding me that it is still very hurt and doesn’t want to move around. I fall limp once more.

    “Finally coming to then.” Dr. Auldon’s voice startles me and I jump, whimpering as I do. I didn’t know he was in here. “Settle down,” he commands, pushing down on my shoulder. “I won’t be happy if you tear your stiches.”

    I fall limp, don’t respond. Dr. Auldon pulls part of my hair away from its spot, plastered to my back, and begins to fiddle with it. “Perhaps this is a little too long,” he murmurs. “I should have Daniella cut it after all. Unless of course you like it this way?”

    It’s a question, but I don’t answer. I'm afraid to. Besides, I really do hate the length and would prefer it to be shorter.

    Dr. Auldon curses under his breath. “I didn’t want him to break you. I want you to answer me, Bailey, when I ask you a direct question. For now you have permission to speak. Now answer the question.”

    “No, I would prefer it shorter,” I whisper. “It’s too much hair, always in my face. I liked it better at the length I had it,” I flinch, expecting him to get angry. He doesn’t and instead continues to stroke my head, as though I was a pet.

    “I’ll arrange that then. For Suzie too, perhaps, hers is a little longer than yours is and she may appreciate a shorter length.”

    I shake my head. Luna likes hers long, she’s told me before. “I honestly do not think that she would like that very much.”

    “Oh? Why not?” Dr. Auldon sounds genuinely curious. I shrug.

    “Just a hunch. She doesn’t really like it if you touch or play with her hair, especially the ends, and she really flipped out one time. I had a seashell; I’ve been teaching her games and stuff so we were playing. I tugged on a strand of her hair, while holding the shell and she freaked. Recoiled and even hissed at me. I think she thought I was going to use the shell to cut it,” I spin the lie quickly, determined not to give Luna away. I think she’s right that they wouldn’t take kindly to the knowledge of her intelligence. The truth is that it’s not a matter of beauty or just a thing among mermaids. They have all different hairstyles and such just like humans, but Luna has never once cut her hair and she never intends to. From what she’s told me, Luna doesn’t have too many memories from when she was younger and almost everything she does remember is blurry. But she has described a few fond memories to me, often with such enthusiasm that I can almost picture it happening. I’ve been honored that she’d share those few precious memories with me. She’s told me about her mother, what little she can remember. Faint images of having her hair brushed off her face, or sitting while bits of coral and shell were gently tugged free of the long locks. Once of being rocked to sleep in a comforting embrace; or of one of her cousins trying to teach her some cool ways to defend herself even with long hair, of failing and getting pulled into a playful headlock. There were a few others as well, but Luna takes pride in her long hair because it’s the only sentimental thing she has from her past. She has venomously refused to cut it and I hope they never force her to. I think it would be a breaking point for her, to lose that.

    Dr. Auldon’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Hmm,” he muses. “I suppose we’ll leave her alone then and once you're healed, we’ll cut yours shorter.” He pats my head again and I wince as the slightly rough motion sends a jolt through me. I grit my teeth and pull away from him only to agitate my injuries further. Dr. Auldon sighs. “This was a bad idea. Dr. Patron took this way too far, as I should have expected he would.” He stands up and I flinch. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and try to calm myself. I shouldn’t be acting this way, shouldn’t be this frightened, and I hate how easily I’ve been pushed to the edge like this. He drags his chair around and sits in front of me, his stern gaze fixed on my face. Then his eyes move lower, glancing over my tightly wrapped torso. He reaches down towards me and I flinch away from him. “Don’t move!” He orders. I force myself to remain perfectly still, stifling a whimper as he places a hand on the bandages. He doesn’t press hard, so it doesn’t hurt; it just makes me tense with worry. I whine slightly when he applies some force. “Hush now, I’m just making sure you aren’t bleeding.” 

    I bite my lip, smother any pained sounds, and try to still my shaking. I hate this, hate that he can ask me to sit silently, hate the Dr. Patron demanded it; that he forced me to silence and threatened more pain if I didn’t comply. Is that how Luna feels? Forced to silence, unable to scream, unable to relieve any of the pressure that the agony brings. Screaming doesn’t physically help, but it helps, makes you feel a little better that at least the world will know. Suffering in silence is so much worse. I wonder if that’s how she lost her voice in the first place. She used to have it, used to speak, she remembers that. So what made her lose it? Perhaps it was screaming that rubbed her throat raw and damaged her vocal cords, or perhaps it was mental; constantly being ordered to be silent, punished if she wasn’t, so focused on obeying that it became a reality. Permanent. It makes me hate them more, thinking that; however it happened, it happened here.

    Dr. Auldon stands, his chair scraping back, and I flinch at the sharp, unexpected action. He moves out of my sight for a few moments, then returns with a long length of coiled tubing. He unwinds some of it, and presses the beginning against my lips. “Open,” he orders. I hesitate, but his firm gaze makes the decision for me. I slowly open my mouth and Dr. Auldon begins to push the tube down my throat. My gag reflex kicks in and I begin to choke, gagging and coughing on it. Instinct screams at me to pull away, spit out the tube, but Dr. Auldon presses a hand against the back of my head, holding me in place as he continues to feed the hose down my throat. Suddenly I realize why Luna hated this so much. It’s an awful feeling, a cross between choking and never being able to rid a foul taste from your mouth. It feels invasive and wrong.

    I continue to sputter, coughs wracking my body and increasing the pain radiating from my middle. After a few seconds I manage to calm myself down, breathing sharply from my nose, and swallow to try to make it easier rather than prolong it. I swallow again, the hose slipping down my throat faster and with less resistance.

    “Good girl,” Dr. Auldon whispers, pushing another chunk of the tube into my mouth. Then he stops and instead pulls the rest of the hose back behind my ear, then tapes it down with thick pieces of clear, I'm guessing waterproof, tape and smooths it down. “Good girl,” he repeats. “Breathe through your nose, slow, no deep breaths or you’ll choke. Don’t try to speak or swallow either.”

    He’s right, of course; as long as I take small, slow breaths it’s easier to ignore the tube, to not gag on it.

    Dr. Auldon sits back down. “Now, we need to have a talk, something you're not capable of at the moment so you’ll have to settle for listening and answering yes or no questions. Not a word, you understand?” I shudder, but nod my head, slowly, while keeping the hose gripped gently between my teeth. “Good. Now, I imagine that you’ve learned your lesson and that you're not going to give me a hard time ever again, right?”

    I nod, supress a shudder.

    “However, you should know that this was too extensive. Dr. Patron took it too far, as I should have expected. I wanted him to give you a few, well-placed and painful cuts, maybe shock some sense into you, but that is it. I did not want him to full out torture you and use you as a learning curb for his new grad student. And I want you to keep in mind that I don’t want the same thing he wants from you.”

    I glance up, my brows furrowing. I have to stop myself from asking what he means.

    “Dr. Patron demanded that you suffer in silence, didn’t he? Threatening you with more punishment if you didn’t comply?”

    I swallow the lump in my throat, nearly begin choking on the hose again, and nod my head.

    “Yes, he would break you if he had is way. He would bend your will until you were nothing but a cowering shell that did nothing until you were told to. In fact that’s what the majority of the people involved in this project want and they would give him free reign quite happily, but they are fools. They don’t see the bigger picture. They don’t know what happens when a creature gives up and loses hope, that or they don’t care. I do. I’ve watched Suzie closely over the years. I saw her when they first brought her here, the wide eyes full of fear, but also full of life. She had a powerful spirit that, had it been utilized properly, could have grown and made her a magnificent attraction with an eagerness to perform and a pride in her actions. But she was wild, began to fight back, and instead of carefully balancing a regimen for her, they let Dr. Patron have his way. I watched him break her, crush that opportunity. She became closed off. She still fought him, of course, that hasn’t changed, but she cowers now, much like you do. The will and happiness for life is gone, has been for a long time. She doesn’t put up much fight anymore, just sulks and lashes out from fear, not anger or desire to fight back. Such a waste.” He’s returned to patting my head as he talks.

    I listen, a growing sadness burning in me as I learn her fate. I can picture her as a small child, being brought here and tortured for no reason. The more she fought back, the worse it got.

    “I have seen some life return to her, when she’s with you, and I intend to make use of that, harness it and try to turn things around. She’ll never be perfect again, far from it, but we can take some steps in the right direction. I won’t make a mistake with you though. Your wounds are fresh, so remember them, and the fate that lies before you for rebelling, but know that I don’t want you to be mindlessly obedient and broken. I demand good behaviour and for you to listen when given a command, but you will not get into trouble for putting energy into what you do, or for disobeying your trainer to do something better. I’d reward you for it. Because that is what I want from you, I want the perfect performer, the perfect attraction. And that will never happen if you break. Sure, I can punish you into doing what I want, but you would lose the will to live, lose the eagerness to please that I so badly need to be able to utilize, to prove them wrong. So there needs to be balance. Which means I'm not going to punish you for bad behavior and ignore you as long as you're not causing trouble. If you disobey, or step out of line, I will not hesitate to punish you,” he warns. “But on the other note, I will not hesitate to reward you for your obedience. Make sense?”

    I nod. What else can I do?

    “Good, glad we’re on the same page. Which is why I'm going to implement a new schedule and system for once you’ve healed. The two of you will still be fed at night and I'm going to leave you mostly to yourselves, but you will work with a trainer for two hours in the afternoon, and will perform in a show on Fridays and Saturdays once you're deemed ready. The exhibit will be closed on Sundays, so consider it your day off.”

    I close my eyes, bow my head, and nod reluctantly.

    “Now, every three weeks, on the Sunday, if there has been no major incidents and, let’s say a maximum of three minor incidents, then I will reward you both.  Your rewards will vary depending on not only the fewer issues, but also on how exceptional you’ve been. You were doing well yesterday up until the surface incident.

    “I will take requests, but nothing unreasonable. I'm sure that this would be an acceptable compromise?”

    I chew my lip. I don’t see why he’s doing this for us; he’s never seemed to care in the past.

    “That was a question, Bailey,” Dr. Auldon’s voice turns stern.

    I shudder and nod. I meet his gaze and offer him a small smile. It’s all I can muster.

    Dr. Auldon doesn’t really seem to notice; instead he begins to stroke my head again, a motion I really wish he’d stop. “I’ve gone and done something foolish and grown a fondness of you,” he murmurs. “You are a delightful pet and I would like you to last. After yesterday and your earlier incidents, there were a few that where tossing termination around. They considered terminating you and starting over with a new subject.”

    My heart clenches. Termination? Everything they’ve done so far has been cruel, awful, and downright scary, but I never thought that they’d actually purposely kill me over a dispute. I shudder again.

    “That can’t happen,” Dr. Auldon continues. “They don’t realize it, but the omega gene cannot be harvested from you; you don’t produce it so it cannot be extracted, and Suzie would not survive another extraction, her body needs it too to survive and it appears that she doesn’t produce it as easily as we thought. So I want you to keep that in mind from now on. Do as I say, even if it goes against what your trainer says, because I make the decisions. Think you can do as you’re told from now on.”

    I nod without hesitation, what else can I do? Both our lives rely on it.

    “Good. Now I’ll leave you to get some sleep. Someone will be in in a few hours to feed you. I don’t want you moving around at all. Understand.”

    Again I give him a nod. He gets up without another word, the door swinging shut on silent hinges behind him. Left alone, I sigh, now more aware of the pain in my body, as I wait, hoping sleep will take me quickly. 


	13. When Hearts Break

**Sophie**

I fiddle with the locket around my neck; my fingers dragging it back at forth on its chain, slowly and habitually. I sigh, let the pendant fall back against my skin, and lean my cheek on my forehead. The towering stacks of paperwork and files on my desk seem never-ending and don’t call to me anymore. Not that I ever enjoyed doing them, but the sense of purpose, the importance of them, even the time alone doing them earned me; none of it seems to matter anymore. I simply don’t care to do it. Of course it brings back memories too, everything does now. I remember the days when I’d be hunched over this desk, wearing out the ink in my pen as I filled out and signed document after document, and made phone call after phone call. The days when the silence would become deafening and I’d be ready to quit. Then, despite the do not disturb sign I hung to keep other employees away while I worked, Michael would come striding through the door as if he owned the place. Practically hanging from his arm would be a three or four, eventually five or six, year old Katie. She’d break free of his grip and clamber up to sit on the corner of my desk, her legs swinging. Then she’d lean over me, her breath tickling my cheek and neck. “Whatcha doing?” She’d ask in that happy little voice of hers.

“Work,” I’d reply, my attention mostly focused on whatever paper was in front of me. Katie’s nose would wrinkle and she’d shake her head, her ponytail or twin braids flying side to side. She’d grab my arm and tug my attention to her.

“Come on, Auntie Sophie, come play with me instead. We could play hide and seek, or feed the seals,” she’d beg, giving me different suggestions all the time. Those hazel orbs would widen, pupils large and shiny, as she’d plead me with that puppy-dog look. And I’d go. I’d stand, leave my work, and spend the rest of the day with them. I’d chase her around, show her the animals, get her an ice cream, coconut pineapple was what she liked, and I’d smile and laugh all day. She was the perfect de-stressor.

Of course, all too soon, Michael’s phone would ring. It would be Roxanne on the line, huffing and complaining about how he was going to be late for dinner and that he was never home, always taking their daughter but leaving her behind. Of course it was never like that, she was the one who was never home; always working or going out with friends and leaving Michael with the daughter she didn’t want.

And then they’d have to go. Michael would call for Katie, Kat was his little nickname for her, and he’d tell her that her mommy was waiting. Katie adored her mother, even if Roxanne did her best to ignore her daughter. So, Katie would skip over and wrap her arms around my leg or waist when she was tall enough, and hug me as tight as her tiny arms could manage. She’d make me kneel down so she could kiss my nose, something she found hilarious, and then would scurry over to her father, talking about how she couldn’t wait to tell mommy about her day.

Then I’d be alone, left to my work until the next week when they came back for the day. When she came to live here, she never lost the habit though. Coming and sitting on the corner of my desk, draping her arm purposely over the document I’d be working on, laughing at my glare, and sighing in exasperation as she tugged me away. Come for a swim, come see the pictures of turtles I got, come watch a movie, I need help with my homework. Any excuse she could think of, she’d use to get me away from my work and make me smile…

I sigh, a smile forming at the thought of it, and spin my pen on the desk. I wish she would come through that door right now with one of her excuses. I could use a reason to smile.

I still remember in perfect clarity what happened to bring her into my care. Her father’s death. Michael had always been dangerously allergic to garlic and was very careful to avoid it. He checked the ingredients of processes foods, inquired thoroughly at restaurants. That was how it happened. The three of them were out to dinner and Roxanne had stepped out to make a phone call. There had been a mix-up in orders, so he ended up with minced garlic in his rice. They simply hadn’t gotten to him in time.

Katie had been devastated, she was only seven, and her birthday was in a few days. It broke her heart even more when her mother wasn’t there for her. Never once held her, cried with her, or told her it would be okay. It only took a few weeks for Roxanne to get tired of Katie’s tears and nightmares, to become angry when her daughter tried to climb into bed at night or wanted to sit in her lap, or go to work with her. Katie just didn’t want to be alone and Roxanne didn’t want the child’s company.

Then that night. It was nearly midnight when my phone rang. I vaguely remember stumbling out of bed and answering. It was the guard, Jerry, calling to say they needed me to come down to the front gate quickly.

I’d gone of course, in nothing but my pajama shorts and shirt. What I found broke my heart. Katie, bleary eyed and confused, was sitting in the guard chair, crying softly. She was probably over-tired and frightened. Probably didn’t know what had happened and why. But sure enough, her suitcase had been left beside her, and Roxanne had given Katie a little purse. Inside was all of her documents. Her birth certificate and health information. Everything. Including the already signed closed adoption form. And a note. A note explaining that she was moving to America to start over, that she wasn’t coming back, and didn’t care what I did. I could take her in or stick her in the system, Roxanne had actually wrote out both options and said she didn’t care which I chose. Said she had never wanted a child, and wasn’t putting up with one now. I’d picked Katie up and taken her upstairs to the apartment. Jerry brought her suitcase up. I sat her down at the table and she looked up at me and asked me where her mom was.

I couldn’t tell her the truth; it would have crushed her. So, I simply said, “She has to go away for a while and you’re going to stay with me while she’s gone, okay?”

She had nodded. “Okay.” Then, “she didn’t say goodbye.”

I remember hugging her, squeezing her tightly against me, smoothing back her hair that always smelled of the citrus shampoo her father bought her. “I know, sweetheart, I know… How about we get you settled though, okay, are you hungry?”

Of course she had nodded and told me she was. I’m not sure what it is with young children always wanting food, but it worked to calm her down a little. Toast with jam was what she wanted. So, I made her two pieces and a hot chocolate.

When she finished I told her it was time for bed.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” She’d begged, her fingers lacing themselves into the hem of my shirt, her eyes wide and tear-stained. It took me less than a heartbeat to pick her up and hug her against me. She’d draped her arms over my shoulders, went back to griping the fabric of my shirt and she buried her nose in the crook of my neck. “Please Auntie Sophie… I don’t want to be alone.”

Rubbing her back, I had carried her down the hall. “Of course,” I had replied. I stood her up on the bed, wiped her tears, and kissed nose, stealing a small giggle from her. “Now lay down, it’s late.” We’d climbed under the covers and she’d snuggled against me. The cutest angel in the world fell asleep against me in seconds, despite her fear and sadness.

I’ve never felt more loved than when I was with her.

The next day, we went down and got the adoption straightened out. A few hours and I was able to take Katie back home for ice cream as mother and daughter.

 

 **A** smile touches my lips, even as tears begin to flow once more. I trace her face in the picture on my desk with a finger, linger over her wide grin. In it, her hair is pulled back in a very sloppy bun, her white shirt littered with purple splotches. It was the day we painted her room. She was twelve, just getting into photography, and wanted to personalize the spare room that had become hers, wanted to change it from the soft yellow I put up when she first came home with me. A rich violet was the color she chose, that, when combined with the sunlight from the massive window, was bright and homey, looked more of an electric purple, but darkened her room at night. We hung up the blue painted bulletin board for her to start hanging photos, the shelves for her shells and camera pieces, the occasional book. She’d ruined her shirt, and mine, by starting a little paint war, drawing a streak up my arm after I’d dotted her nose with it; a reaction to a sassy comment she’d made. Before long, we had paint on our clothes, arms, and faces, and there were a few splotches that dried to the floor, a fact that thrilled her because it made things unique.

“Perfect paint jobs are boring anyways,” she’d laughed and turned the two dots to a lopsided smiley face by drawing a curved line underneath them with her brush. “We should do the same in your room, by the bed, and I’ll put my bed here, so it’s the last thing we see before we go to sleep.

There’s a purple happy face by the backboard of my bed, on the wall instead of the floor, against the forest green paint that Katie bought when she couldn’t stand the peeling wallpaper anymore.

Sometimes I think she took care of me more than I took care of her, though I know she would argue that I’ve been the perfect mother.

“If I was the perfect mother, she would still be here,” I mutter to myself.

“You know that’s not true,” Lewis startles me and I nearly jump out of my skin.

“How long have you been standing there?” I demand.

“Long enough,” he replies. I take a tissue and wipe at my eyes with it. “I came for the medical reports for the tiger shark that’s coming in. You said you would have them ready for this afternoon, but…” He trails off to gaze over my desk. “By the looks of things, you haven’t started have you?”

“No,” I mutter. “I haven’t. I’m sorry; I’ll get right on it.” I begin to sift through the piles on my desk, shoving papers aside.

“Sophie. Sophie. No, Sophie, stop,” Lewis grabs my arms, pulls them back from the desk. “Just stop.”

A sob leaves me and I shake my head. “No, Lewis, I can’t. I can’t stop. I can’t stop any of it, just like I couldn’t stop it from happening. I can’t stop think about her, I can’t stop whispering her name to myself, and I can’t stop knocking on her door, hoping she’ll open it. I can't stop staring at the spot,” I jab a finger at the empty corner on my desk, the only place not overrun by documents, “waiting for her to come sit there. I can’t stop crying myself to sleep, and I can’t stop feeling useless and broken. I just want my daughter back; I’d give anything to have her back.”

“I know,” Lewis whispers. “And I know it’s hard, but Sophie, you’ve got to pull yourself together a little bit. You know that I wish she’d come in and rearrange my equipment, or sop water through my office as she shortcuts through to strip off a wetsuit and put away her stuff. I wish she’d come and steal my coffee in the morning, telling me it was bad for me, and I wish I could see her leaning against a rail, staring off in the distance or sitting on a bench reading or doing some homework. I wish I could hear her laughing, you laughing with her, and I wish I could see her smile. I wish she would come through that door right now and sit in her spot on the desk, but Soph,” he pauses. “You and I both know that she isn't going to. She isn’t coming into any of these rooms, she isn't out by the tanks or out on a dive, she’s not going to answer her bedroom door or come out for dinner. We aren’t going to hear her laughing, the telltale way to find her like a cat with a bell around its neck. She isn't coming back Sophie, and she’s never going to. We have to accept that and you have to find a way to live with it.”

I sniff, unable to stop my tears as his words twist like a barb into my heart. He squeezes my shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I think you need to hear it and everyone is too afraid to approach you and say it. I know you loved her, but you need to let her go and move on with your life. Take a step towards actually recovering, Sophie.”

“How would you like me to do that,” I snap, my voice rising with my pain. “Would you like me to just forget about her? She’s de-dead so she deserves to be forgotten? I’ve lost my daughter, Lewis, so don’t you dare lecture me.”

“I'm not asking you to forget. I’m asking you to stop mopping and move on with your life. Maybe it’s time to go into Katie’s room and start taking thing out.” I tense at his words. “You don’t have to get rid of anything, just pack stuff away, and clear out the room. Maybe think about offering the room to a tenant or turn it into a second office to give you more privacy from other employees, convert it so you can take up a hobby, anything. Maybe get a pet, a cat preferably so you don’t have to walk it, though if you want a dog-”

“I don’t want a dog, or a tenant, or a new office, Lewis, please, I know you’re trying to be helpful, but I'm not ready for that sort of change yet. I just want to wallow for at least a few weeks without everyone pushing me to move on. You’re one of my closest friends, but I just lost the only family member that I had left. The only daughter I'll ever get the chance to have. Just… let me mourn in peace,” I finish, caught between angry and defeated. “I’ll come around and move on when I’m ready, and nothing you say or do can make that happen any faster.”

Lewis nods, his expression solemn. “I'm sorry. You’re right and I shouldn’t have pushed you, I'm just concerned that you're not okay and I want to help. Maybe… maybe you should take some vacation time. Take a few weeks, leave the country maybe, get away and give yourself time to think.”

I nod. “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea. I'll have to think about it.”

“Okay, well, I’ll leave you alone. If you can get me those papers today at some point, I’d appreciate it,” he states, and then turns to leave.

“Lewis? Thanks,” I reply. “For trying. I appreciate it.”

He grins and nods. “Just feel better okay?” Then he’s gone, leaving the door to swing slowly behind him. I shake my head, tuck a loose strand behind my ear, and then actually begin to work…


	14. A Guilty Ally

**Katie**

I sigh, the air moving sharply through my nose. The gloom, the silence, the boredom… and I can’t even fidget for fear of tearing my injuries open again. My stomach choses that moment to gurgle loudly, startling me. I jump a little at the sudden noise, and then wince as my pain intensifies. The tube is also starting to get increasingly irritating. Saliva is pooling around it, making my mouth feel slimy, full, and gross, and any attempts to swallow make the tube shift and bob down my throat; causing me to start choking again, which makes the saliva worse, and causes a sharp pain as it smacks against the wall of… my intestine I'm pretty sure. Whatever it is, it hurts.

When I finish another one of such fits, I try my best to just go limp and ignore the tube all together. An impossible task. I close my eyes and try to at least take a nap.

For a few minutes, the silence doesn’t seem so bad. It’s comforting and peaceful almost, and I can almost relax. Almost.

But, of course, since I'm finally relaxing, the silence has to end, and at that moment the door backs against the wall as it is flung open. I jump again, nearly hiss and whimper at the pain. Then I focus on the newcomer and the fishy smell wafting from the bucket in his hands. The thought of food is dashed by the person bringing it. I feel my eyes lower to narrow slits at the teenaged boy who is setting the bucket down beside a machine that the tubing is attached to. Of course it had to be him. The jerk boy that popped in and out during my transformation and couldn’t be bothered to give a damn about any of problems I was having. He turns towards me, his gaze wandering over my tail. I curl my lip to show him my fangs and offer him as much of a hiss as I can muster with this awful hose. He glowers at me, his dark brown eyes growing darker, liquid coal, and within seconds my collar is activating. It steals a whimper as the shocks jolt through the sensitive, severed nerves around my injuries. Then his hand is on my waist, palm pressing against my injury, applying cruel pressure and I bite back a scream. A twisted grimacing grin warps his features.

“Don’t you dare snarl at me like that,” he spits. “Don’t forget who your masters are you stupid, scaled freak.” He grabs my chin and pulls my gaze to his. “Perhaps uncle wasn’t clear enough. Perhaps I should call him down here and have him open you up again. He’d probably pluck your scales, one by one until you learned your lesson, maybe even let me help.”

Then it makes sense. He’s related to Dr. Patron. No wonder he’s so indifferent, eager even, towards the pain and suffering of others.

“That’s quite enough, Jason,” Dr. Auldon’s voice is sharp and incredibly displeased. I'm released instantly as the boy removes his hand from my torso and whips around to face the scientist standing in the door way with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. Dr. Auldon removes his glasses, wipes them with the hem of his shirt, and replaces them upon his nose. “I believe you were given instructions to come in and feed her. Feed her, not talk to her, touch her, especially near her injuries, or threaten her, just feed her. You were given that remote in case of an emergency, should she decide to lash out violently. It was merely a precaution, but since you can’t seem to handle it properly without abusing it, I’ll be taking it back now.” Dr. Auldon extend his hand.

Jason shakes his head. “But she… You saw what she did,” he protests. “She was asking to be punished, she deserved it.”

“Not your decision to make,” Dr. Auldon counters evenly. “Besides, I have trouble seeing the problem. She can’t speak with the hose down her throat, not without choking herself which is punishment enough, and she was nowhere near you, couldn’t have lashed out. The remote, Jason.”

The boy sighs and reluctantly relinquishes the remote.

“Now I believe that there is a bathroom on the first floor that needs cleaning, a toddler was sick.”

“But, that’s not my job!” Jason retorts.

Dr. Auldon raises an eyebrow. “It is now. Go.”

Jason snorts, shakes his head, and storms out, muttering under his breath as he does. I nearly sigh with relief; barely manage to contain a grin. I’m glad someone’s finally knocking that creep down a few sizes.

“Don’t think for a moment that I’m defending you.” Dr. Auldon’s attention has turned to me. “In fact, had it been anyone else and if they’d been smart enough to avoid slowing your healing process, I may have left them alone. But that boy is far too arrogant, testing authority as often as he can, so I take every chance I can to try and smarten him up. Don’t let it happen again, Bailey. I know that you aren’t normally vocal in that manor unless provoked, but you need to watch yourself. I don’t know what he did, frankly I don’t care, but even when provoked you need to be compliant. I don’t want you hissing at people; you're going to be in contact with guests. I don’t care if some little kid tugs on your hair or hooks their fingers under your gills, you are not to lash out or snarl at them, am I understood?”

I nod, not that I would have argued or ever even considered lashing out at a small child.

Dr. Auldon reaches into the bucket Jason left behind and pulls up some cutlets of fish. There are no bones or scales on the pieces that he pulls from the bucket and drops into the little meat grinder that the tubing is hooked up too. There’s a sharp whirring sound as the machine comes to life, and a creamy, red-gray paste slides down the tube. Dr. Auldon feeds the machine more pieces and the mixture slowly begins to sate my hunger. It’s disgusting looking, and if I wasn’t really hungry, I would be grossed out and likely almost sick, so I just close my eyes and try not to think about it.

After cleaning out the machine, Dr. Auldon walks over to me and bends over, his fingers ghosting over the bandages. “I don’t think these need to be redressed until tomorrow,” he decides. “Now Bailey, I'm going to give you a decision to make. I want you to hold up a finger for option one, and two for option two, understand?”

I nod.

“Now, it will be a couple days before you can eat on your own again. Until then, I can either leave the feeding tube where it is, or I can remove it now, and reinsert it tomorrow when it comes time for you to eat, and then take it out again until the next day. The choice is yours,” he says.

I pause for a moment. I hate the tube, it’s uncomfortable and it is starting to make my throat sore. Not to mention I'm always choking on it. I constantly pulled from sleep because I’ve started breathing deeply and choked on it. Every time I choke sends flashes of pain through my middle. I want it out. However, I truly hated the feeling of it first going in. when it pushes past the gag reflex it hurts and it feels like you can't breathe. It’s scary and I'm reluctant to feel it again. I contemplate my choices, breathing slowly and shallowly as I do to keep from choking again. This makes my decision for me; the way I have to breathe with this thing always leaves me bordering on suffocation. I want to be able to breathe again. I wiggle two fingers at him, knowing it will hurt to raise my arm. Luckily, he was watching me.

“Hmm, alright then,” he says. “I wouldn’t think it would be the more appealing option, but I did give you the choice. I’ll even give you a chance to change your mind tomorrow, because of how nice I am,” he sneers the last bit at me. Then he pulls up the tape holding the tube down. I wince a little as it pulls at my skin and the little hairs behind my ears. He tugs it free, then takes a hold of the tube and begins to pull it out. Instantly I feel like I'm going to be sick. I begin to choke again. “Relax,” he commands. “Breathe, you're fine.” I suck in sharp breaths through my nose, the panic subsiding a little. After what feels like eternity, the long hose is finally removed and I close my mouth, grateful to be able too.

Dr. Auldon sets the tube in the bucket and then pats my head. “You’ve been pretty good for me, but I want to know what happened with Jason, so speak up now before I ask him instead.”

I shake my head. “He’s just a jerk,” I say, my voice slightly raspy. “Throughout my transformation he just… didn’t care. When my jaw dislocated because of the fangs, it scared me; to suddenly have that happen. I’d tried to ask what was happening, I knew someone would be watching. I just wanted an explanation, maybe some help. Instead, he came out, stuck a cookie tray underneath my head to keep me from getting drool on the bed. He just left me like that until Jenny came back in the morning. Did the same thing with that frozen lifejacket thingy when my gills were forming. He said it was supposed to help me breathe easier during, and it did, but he let me border on suffocating for almost an hour before deciding to bring it out. I mean if it was a modesty thing, he could have at least called someone, or let me do it myself, I mean I'm not incapable. It just bothers me that he can just… not care. Being the only one continuously present, he was someone I could openly hate.” I shrug. “So I did, still do.”

Dr. Auldon stares at me, doesn’t speak for a while, with his lips pursed into a thin line. Finally, “I guess I have to have another ‘talk’ with Jason since he clearly can’t follow direct orders either. He was, of course, instructed to do what he did when your fangs came in, but I specifically told him that I would prefer he use towels and that he would have to change them every half hour at least and that Ms. Barnes would handle the dislocation when she came in. Clearly he tried using the tray as a shortcut, but it still should have been emptied. And I was very clear that the second you began having troubles that jacket should have been applied because I didn’t want damage to come to your lungs as they reshaped to become connected to the gills. I told him that if he had an issue being around a girl a few years younger, but still close to his age, to send for somebody. He is on his last strike. I don’t care if Dr. Patron put in a good word for him or helped him get the job, Jason is part of my staff and I am ready to fire the boy,” he grumbles, mostly to himself. “And you had better learn to deal with people you don’t like. The staff here, all of them, are in charge of you. The only time you may disobey them is if the command goes against something _I_ have ordered you to do, or if it’s detrimental to the exhibit. They do have the right to punish you, if it’s justified, so you had better watch yourself. We’re clear on that, right?”

“Yes,” I mutter. “I'm sorry for hissing.”

“Better. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“It won’t.”

“Good. Now, the last couple of hours I have been keeping an eye on you, but I’m leaving for the day now, so I want you to take this,” He hands me a small remote with a single red button on it. “It’s completely waterproof, so don’t worry about getting it wet, but it’s a help button. If something happens; you start to bleed out for example, push the button. If you start to feel sick to your stomach, make sure you push the button. Dr. Patron took it too far yesterday, opened up your stomach; the actual organ, not a term for your abdomen, and if you start to throw up, it means you're rejecting food and you could also rupture something. So if you genuinely feel queasy, use that, got it? Someone will come in to help, and you will be allowed to explain yourself. I won’t take kindly to the misuse of it, but I would rather a false alarm then you not using it when it’s needed, so don’t hesitate if you think something is wrong. Understand?”

I nod. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, I merely do not want to prolong the reopening of the exhibit,” he states. “Try to sleep. The more rest you get, the faster you’ll heal.” Then he’s gone, leaving the door to swing closed behind him. I sigh and shift my fin a little. I set the remote down in the water and slump down, closing my eyes. At least I'm tired and it isn’t too hard to find sleep.

 

 **A** chair scraping against the floor startles me awake. My eyes snap open and I wince as my tensing muscles bring more pain. As the room comes into focus, I bring my attention to the newcomer. Blonde curly hair frames the freckles and large brown eyes of a face I met yesterday. I find myself recoiling, shrinking back just in case. Elizabeth’s eyes deflate and sadness consumes her features. She reaches a hand partway towards me, then changes her mind and returns her hand to her lap. “Please don’t be afraid of me,” she whispers. “I'm not going to hurt you; I never wanted to hurt you.”

 _But you did._ I can't stop the thought from flashing through my mind, even though I know it wasn’t her fault. I don’t blame her exactly; I just can't help but be slightly afraid of her.

Elizabeth glances around behind her, almost as though she’s not supposed to be here. After a full sweep of the room, she turns back to me. “Can you keep a secret?” She asks.

I frown and raise one eyebrow in confusion. Again, Elizabeth glances behind her, then reaches into the pocket of her sweater and removes a capped syringe. I tense further, shy away; feel my lip curl against my will.

“It’s okay,” she says as she removes the safety cap of the, already full, needle. “It’s going to sting a little, but you’ll feel better.”

She sticks me with it, quickly, but gently pushes the needle beneath the skin of my waist. I bite down on a whimper as it increases the pain that’s already there. A second or two later, she removes the empty needle, replaces the cap, and tucks it away.

In the time it takes her to do that, my torso goes numb and the pain fades. My tail is still sore, but it was never anywhere near as painful as the incisions up my front. I feel gratitude sweep through me at the kind gesture. No one has ever bothered with painkillers, probably just didn’t want to waste them on me. I smile at her, nod my thanks.

She returns the smile, but presses a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell anyone. I am not supposed to give you that.”

“I won’t,” I whisper, my voice faint, barely there. “Thank you.”

“Consider it my apology for yesterday,” she replies. “I never wanted to do that, never expected I would be asked too,” she sighs, lets her shoulders slump forward. “I'm studying to be a sea vet, and the co-op placement is a requirement for my program. I lose my scholarship if I don’t do well in the placement and I don’t want that. I want to help, you know? Do some good in the world. I was told Dr. Patron was one of the best, never thought I’d be placed with him. I was beyond excited when I was.” She hangs her head, wrings her fingers. “I didn’t expect him to be such a monster. I wanted to walk out yesterday, almost did, but… I’m glad I didn’t. At least now I’ve got a position here, and maybe I can help. Because if anyone needs help right now, it’s the two of you and I'm going to try to help you both,” she vows. “I'm really sorry for yesterday.”

I shake my head; swallow the lump in my throat. “Don’t be,” I manage. “It wasn’t your fault. If there is anything I’ve learned it’s that there’s no getting out of things around here and you’ve just got to try to make the best of it.”

She nods. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she agrees. “Can I ask your name? I know Bailey isn’t your real one and I was just curious. I mean I can call you Bailey if you want me too and I totally understand if you don’t want to share your past or-”

“Katie,” I state, cutting her off. “My name is Katie.”

She nods. “Short for what? Kaitlynn?”

“Katherine,” I reply. “But it wasn’t going to be for much longer. I was going to change my name to Katie. It’s more than a nickname. Besides, I hate Katherine. I mean, sure it’s a pretty name on someone else but…”

“It doesn’t suit you,” Elizabeth finishes. “I like Katie on you better too.”

“Thanks,” I murmur. I break off to yawn widely. The painkillers have helped, but the pain is still present and I’m feeling beyond exhausted and slightly nauseous.

Elizabeth’s mouth twitches into a frown and she rises from her chair. “You should get some rest. Here I am trying to make you hold a conversation, after everything you’ve been through...” she trails off and purses her lips. “Well, you need to rest,” she decides finally. Her fingers curl around the top of the folding chair, which she lifts and returns to its original place against the wall. “Get some sleep.”

She turns to leave, and when she’s turning the door handle, I stop her. “Hey, Elizabeth?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you… for everything.”

She smiles and dips her head. “Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t; you’ll get us both into trouble.”

I laugh and nod in agreement. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”  She smiles and dips her head before slipping out the door. Leaving me alone. Again. I sigh and shift a little, much more comfortable now that the pain is gone. A yawn leaves me and I find myself more tired than I have been in a while. Must be all the energy my body is putting into healing. Another yawn and I let my eyes slip closed, falling peacefully oblivious to the world.


	15. A Haunting Memory

**Luna**

I stir, yawn and slowly uncoil into a stretch. Blinking away the bleariness of sleep, I sit up and glance around, wondering what woke me. The light suddenly flashes on, illuminating the dim room, causing me to see spots. I squeeze my eyes shut, rub at them, and cautiously reopen them again in time to see Elizabeth set Katie down on the observation table on the far side of the room. I feel my heart swell at the sight of my friend. I have not seen her since that day in the lab room and I have only been able to hope that she is okay. I have missed her a lot and am glad to see her again.

I watch them silently from my spot in the tank. The water level comes up to my shoulders when I am sitting up, and the tank is several tail lengths long and wide. They brought me here after they took Katie away and I’m hoping to leave it soon. I miss the bigger tank, it made me feel a little more secure, and I have missed Katie’s embrace at night. I have not slept so well without her recently.

I watch a yawn split Katie’s features. Elizabeth sighs. “I don’t know why this couldn’t wait until tomorrow,” she mutters. “It’s not like we’re moving the two of you for a couple of days.”

Katie shrugs and leans her cheek on her closed fist.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Elizabeth decides. “Stay still.” She tugs at the bandages around Katie’s waist and begins to cut through them. Katie’s fin curls, flicks out again, and she shivers, shifting on the observation table. “Stay still,” Elizabeth says.

“I'm sorry, I just haven’t been able to move for the past couple of… weeks? Is that how long it’s been? I’m just fidgety.”

“Well the faster I finish, the faster you can get into the water and stretch. So stay still a little longer,” Elizabeth huffs, but her tone is light. Katie sighs and falls still. A couple of seconds later, Elizabeth is tugging the cut bandages free and letting them drift down to the floor in a small pile. She then peels back the sticky bandages on Katie’s tail and bends over it, running her hand down the purple scales. “Any pain?”

Katie shakes her head. Elizabeth pushes down with her palms.

“Still none?”

“No,” Katie agrees.

“What about your front? Any twinges?”

“No, I think it’s good.”

“Alright. But be sure to say something if that changes,” Elizabeth orders. She picks Katie up and carries her over, letting my friend’s fin dangle to dip into the water first. The she lets Katie slip free into the water. “Goodnight. Get some rest and don’t strain anything okay? Take it easy for a little bit, alright?”

Katie nods, another yawn escaping her. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“Good. Goodnight then,” Elizabeth says. She turns, her gaze falling on me and she waves gently. “Goodnight, sweetie,” she coos. I sink lower in the water and she sighs softly, but leaves without saying anything else. The second she’s gone, I dart over to Katie and wrap her into a hug.

‘I missed you,’ I tell her.

She hugs me, squeezing me tightly against her. “I’ve missed you too. Have you been okay here? They haven’t been giving you a hard time, have they?”

I shake my head. ‘No, but I have been lonely. It is strange. I was used to being on my own before, but now I feel empty and frightened when you are not around. It is hard to fall asleep.’

“I’m sorry. I’ve felt the same though-” she breaks off in a yawn, which quickly leads me to do the same. Katie giggles. “Yawns are contagious,” she comments. “Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

I nod in agreement, more than happy to comply, and lay down next to her. Seconds later, I roll over so I can bury my nose in her neck. She hugs me in response, her fin falling over mine, and kisses my forehead.

“I’ve missed you, little sister,” she whispers into my hair. I hug her back and relax next to her, listen as the sound of watery air passing through her gills begins to slow, deepen with slumber. Another yawn escapes me and I find sleep easily, far quicker than any other night recently.

 

_I flick my fin, gaze lazily around the small, sandy reef. Small fish dart in and out of coral tubes and tunnels and kelp sways softly around the fringes of the reef. There are Mer too, lots of them, and they are all talking, chatting away with one another. But I cannot separate their voices, it is all just noise, just like I can see them, but I cannot describe them, not colors, genders, or physical features. I just know they are there. I swim among them, happy to be around them. They have always made me happy. I giggle, flick my fin, and sigh when I do not get very far. I find myself wishing, yet again, that I was bigger, older, faster, like my cousins. Mommy says I will get faster in time; that I will grow as long as I am patient. She says that everyone else was once small like me too and had to wait patiently too. It makes me feel better, but I still wish, sometimes, that I was not so slow._

_I sink down to rest on a flat rock, lay out on it, my belly rubbing against the smooth, cold surface of it. My tiny fin hangs over the edge and I lean down to doodle starfish in the sand. I love starfish, love to listen to them sing. It is so pretty and soothing. I glance around, hoping to see one, but there are none around. I curl up a little, a yawn escaping me, and close my eyes. The sunlight is nice and warm and mommy normally has me take a nap around this time. She will not mind if I drift off early…_

**_I_ ** _stretch out and sit up, glance around. There are a couple of older Mer resting several feet away, but I do not see any of my cousins, or my mommy. Suddenly wanting her, I push off the rock and swim over to the others._

_“Where is my mommy?” I ask. They do not reply, do not even stir. I repeat my question and one of the Mer stirs, mumbles something I do not quite catch. I turn and scan the reef again. She could not have gone too far, so perhaps I should look for her. Maybe she took my cousins to the far reef, or is around the bend. I should check there first._

_I swim as fast as I can around the bend, giggling at the thought of sneaking up on mommy. She would be so surprised, maybe even proud that I found her all by myself._

_As I round the bend, a large school of salmon swims by. The fish are decently sized and quick, and I have heard my cousins boasting about catching them. I really want to catch fish too, but mommy says I am not old enough yet, that I need to get a little bigger and a little faster. But I really want to catch one._

_I dart towards the school, my fin working hard to try and keep up. I arch above them, dive back down, and manage to enter the back of the school. Joy fills me. I am doing it. I reach for a fish, but the scales are slippery and I cannot keep a grip. My moment fades as the school darts ahead, throwing me from the mass of fish. I huff in frustration, but dart forward again, chase them, laughing as I feel the current they leave rush over my tail._

_I manage to catch up and enter the school again, my fingers brushing the fin of the fish in front of me. I stretch, my fingers starting to close around it, when the school dissolves. Each fish swimming away, up, down, in a frantic motion. No longer unified, out of sync, they dart this way and that, smacking into me as they go._

_What is going on?_

_Suddenly I am pressed against some brown tendrils all woven together. The make me think of kelp, long and malleable, but it is wrong. This stuff is rough, scratching against my skin as it presses against me. I push against it, move to swim away, but my fin has become tangled, and the school is being caught by the tendrils too, pressing the scaly bodies against mine, squishing me against the coarse substance. I begin to chew, tearing at the tendrils with my teeth. They taste nasty and I want to spit them out. I chew anyways, but get nowhere. I cannot get my fangs to stay formed, cannot slice through. I glance around, hoping to see mommy and the others coming to rescue me, but I do not recognize the area, I have swum too far._

_“Mommy!” I cry loudly, frightened now. “Help!”_

_There’s no response, no movement. No one comes._

_The tendrils encasing us leave the water. Without it to support some weight, the school presses down on my more tightly, their bodies flapping weakly in the confines. I cry out. A whimper leaves my throat. We swing through the air and then there’s a click and the tendrils fall open, dumping the school down into a waiting black hole. I grip the tendrils tightly, feel myself dangle painfully, but I am afraid to fall, so I cling to the rough pieces._

_There are a bunch of voices, shouting, but I squeeze my eyes shut and whimper again. If this is a dream, I would like to wake up now._

_I feel something thin and cold, but hard pull tight around the base of my tail. It tugs, hard, and I wince at the pain in my fin. Another tug and I lose my grip and fall, but I do not fall in the hole, but land on the ground outside of it. I gasp as pain laces through my body, curl up to try to appear small, to hide. Then there are hands, grabbing at me, forcing me to stretch out. I open my eyes, glance around. I am on a boat. A bad thing mommy told me always to avoid. I chew my lip and shy away from all the people towering over me on their strange land limbs._

_Maybe they did not mean to bring me onto their boat; perhaps they just wanted the fish. I scoot backwards, using my hands to push myself towards the edge of the boat. The motion snaps them to attention and suddenly I’m grabbed again, dragged to the middle of the boat, painfully, by my fin. I cry out, screech in a high pitched whistling dolphin call for my mother, hoping she will hear me. I cry out again, tears of fear beginning to blossom in the corners of my eyes._

_“It’s calling for help,” one of the people states._

_“Bring it below, they won’t hear it. Besides, I doubt we need to fear a few fish. Make sure you get it in the water quick. We wouldn’t want it to drown up here, out of its element.”_

_“Think we should put it in the hold then?”_

_“No, it might eat our fish. Take it to the back storage.”_

_I glance around, confused on what they’re talking about. I cry out again, still using the dolphin call I was taught as I plead for my family to come. But the ocean remains still._

_Without warning, I am hoisted into the air, held under on arm. A hand presses down on my neck, preventing me from moving my head. My tail sways and I grasp at the strange material covering the person’s body, afraid to be dropped. I am carried inside a strange box-like cave on the boat, taken through its tunnels. We stop in one of the small caverns and the man holding me stumbles as the boat sways. I whimper again, tears pricking into my eyes._

_The hand on my neck is removed to pull open the lid of a large white box that is level with the man’s waist. I am dropped inside and then the lid is replaced, plunging me into darkness._

_It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust, not that there is much to see, just plain walls on all side, caging me in. I shiver in the cold water and curl up on the hard ground, fear sending shivers through my body. I call out again, wince as the sound bounces back at me in the tight confines. Chewing my lip, I let me head fall to the ground, my fingers digging in as the water sways with the movement of the boat. “Mommy,” I whisper, knowing she can no longer hear me. “Please come get me, I want to go home.”_

**_I_ ** _have no idea how long I have been in this box, but I am starting to get very hungry and have started chewing on my fingertips, a habit I was scolded for, but cannot help but do, now._

_I jump when I hear voices outside the box. Suddenly light floods my box as the lid is yanked open, and a hand is plunging in, fisting itself into my hair and pulling me up. The person’s other arm loops around my waist and hauls me out of the water. Then I am dropped into a smaller, lidless, clear box filled with water. I have to curl my fin to fit and even then it is too small. At least the water covers my head. “So the price we agreed on then?” The man asks._

_“Oh, yes, I believe that is a more than fitting arrangement.” I watch another man approach, his hair is black, yet littered with graying strands, and his eyes are brown, narrowed and angry looking, pursed lips forming a type of grin. I feel terror grip and just by looking at him, I know he is not a nice man. He stares at me as though I were his next meal, a wicked grin replacing the smirk. He walks slowly, threateningly, towards me, and I swear if I could see his teeth, they would have long, curved fangs to go with his scary demeanor. “She’ll do nicely.”_

I bolt upright, my gills flaring, my chest shuddering. Beside me, Katie wakes just as suddenly. She sits up, squeezes my shoulder. “Are you okay?” She asks, concern thick on her voice. I shiver again, hug myself, and bow my head. The terror is still thick, still fresh, and I cannot slow my heartbeat. Silent, shuddering sobs wrack my body, which is quickly pulled into a hug. “Luna, it’s okay,” Katie whispers. “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

Yes, a nightmare, that is what is was; a bad dream. But it was more than that, a memory. It is only the memories that bring this much pain and fear. Still, I nod my head and Katie’s grip tightens around me.

“You want to talk about it?” She asks as she smooths down my hair.

I shake my head, but slowly begin to relax into her embrace. I cannot talk about it, even if I wanted to, I could not. It was so vivid, the emotions so thick, even now, but I cannot remember the dream itself. That has faded back into the far corners of my mind, the shadowy places I cannot reach, and do not want to.

“Are you sure?” Katie inquires. “Talking about it sometimes helps.”

I shake my head again. ‘I cannot remember what happened,’ I tell her. ‘But it was scary.’

Katie nods her head, rubs my back. “You mentioned that you have had a hard time sleeping these past couple of weeks that I’ve been away. Is this why? Have you been having nightmares?”

I chew my lip, but nod. I have had several of them, this is not the first time, and I often cannot calm down for quite a while afterwards. I do not often fall back asleep after.

“You had one a couple days before the opening too,” she comments. “I thought it was just because you were nervous, but it has to be more than that if they keep happening. Do you remember anything about them?”

‘I think they are memories,’ I explain. ‘But I do not remember them once I wake, it is just the emotion, and sometimes the pain, that lingers.’

Katie nods. “I suppose that is a good possibility, that it’s your sub-consciousness haunting you as it struggles to remember. Have you been trying lately? To remember things from the past?”

I nod.

“Well, maybe it is just bringing up memories from when you came here. Or it could be bringing up happier ones too, but you don’t realize it because you don’t remember. Fear is a powerful emotion so it makes sense that you’re only aware of the bad ones,” she states. She pulls away to meet my gaze. “You know that they cannot hurt you right? These dreams are still just dreams, and you’re going to be okay.”

I wrap my arms around her waist and press my cheek against her shoulder. I relax as her grip tightens instinctively and makes me feel just a little safer. ‘I am afraid still,’ I admit reluctantly. ‘I am terrified of waking up to be strapped down again. Now that it is not a constant, but an uncertainty, the fear is getting worse.’

Katie is silent for a moment, her fingers tracing circles on my spine as a faraway look enters her eyes. “I think,” she speaks slowly and softly after a moment, clearly still thinking. “I think that you have a good reason to be frightened, with all that you’ve been through over the years, but I also think that things are changing for you now.

“We’re part of an exhibit now, an attraction, and don’t be offended by this, but do you know exactly what that means?”

‘That people come to look at us?’ I guess, feeling decently confident in my answer.

“Well, yes, but it’s more than that. Now, I know you hate the term, but to them, we’re mermaids, creatures of fantasy now come to life. That’s a big deal and it will attract a lot of attention, especially children. The guests aren’t like the scientists, they care…sort of. They don’t directly care about us or our happiness, but if word got out about that they were cutting us open and torturing us, there would be an uproar. Nature rights organizations would have a field day protesting this, and every child on the planet would be begging their parents to help the mermaids,” Katie explains. “It’s the same reason they didn’t just stick you in a show tank by yourself. They needed me because people would be sad to see you all alone and they would run into the same problems. Does that make sense?”

I nod. ‘But what does it have to do with-’

“I'm getting there,” Katie interrupts me gently. “What they did to me was more of a desperate attempt to force me to compliance, not a regular thing. I think Dr. Auldon believes I can keep you in line, but that I needed some discipline of my own. The poking and prodding will stop now, Luna. They can’t risk closing the exhibit all the time because they cannot show us injured; people would get suspicious. As long as we do as we’re told and keep a low profile, there’s no reason for either of us to be taken into a lab room. In fact, it would be counterproductive.” She smooths my hair down and meets my gaze firmly. “Do you think you can do that? Fall in line and do as they say?”

I hesitate, chew my lip. _No, I cannot. I refuse to be a meek little pet, broken and obedient._

“Luna,” Katie catches my attention again. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but I’m not saying you need to give up and let them win. I just need you to trust me. Stop fighting them, do as they say, make them happy. It doesn’t mean we’re giving up, it just means we’re going to have to hide our true thoughts and feelings. Let them think they’ve won, okay?”

I nod. ‘Okay,” I agree. I agree because I do trust her, she wouldn’t suggest it if she didn’t think it was important for us to follow through.

She sighs. “It isn't going to be easy, for either of us, but if we really try, we can do it. And if we manage to pull it off, they may lower their guards around us, may slip up a little. Who knows,” she shrugs, “maybe they’ll give us an opening. It’s a very unlikely long shot, but it’s the closest thing to an escape plan that I’ve got at the moment. At the very least, it’s self-preservation, right?”

 

 


	16. A Doctor's Outlook

**Dr. James Auldon**

I watch as Bailey and Suzie are brought up onto the platform. Both mermaids are on the same gurney, pushed by Dr. Patron’s new helper, Elizabeth Montes, who seems to have taken a shine to the mermaids. Suzie is curled up on her stomach, blue eyes constantly looking around, fear and distrust thick in her wide irises. Beside her, Bailey is sitting up, her tail swinging freely over the edge of the gurney. Her fingers are curled around the handle of the gurney to keep her balanced and her other hand rests in her lap. I glance at her stomach, note that not even a scar remains as evidence of her injuries. Dr. Patron’s methods in that matter impress me greatly. I’ve always wondered how he manages to get healthy skin to form instead of scar tissue. It’s a secret that he guards closely.

Miss Montes brings the gurney to a halt at the edge of the platform. I nod at her, a motion that is returned before she silently retreats. Whether she’s just quiet in nature, frightened out of her mind by Dr. Patron, or afraid of me, I'm not sure, not that I mind the silence. A good employee can do their job without opening their mouth more than necessary.

I snap my fingers together, watch with satisfaction as Bailey’s spine straightens at attention, her eyes meeting mine, awaiting a command. Her muscles are slightly tense, fearful, but she appears to have focused all her attention on me. Good. Now the real test would be, can I keep her attention while ignoring her. I walk over to the gurney, focus my attention on Suzie, who shrinks back as I approach. I feel Bailey’s gaze, still watching me in case I suddenly want something from her, yet her head hasn’t moved, as though she’s afraid that will get her into trouble, so she instead watches me from the corner of her eye. Even better. I walk around behind Suzie and scoop her up, ignoring the startled hiss of air that escapes her. I press my hand against her neck, hold her still as I take a few steps then toss her into the tank. “Get in the water,” I don’t turn around to look at Bailey as I speak, and instead give the gurney a slight push away from the edge of the water. I keep my peripheral vision trained on her, studying her reaction to the challenge. She stares at the space between the gurney and the tank, practically see her realization that she won’t make the jump.

I watch her glance around, and then grab the bar of the gurney and shift, beginning to lower herself to the floor. When she’s nearly there, her fin millimeters from the tiling, and most of her body is hanging, I stop her with a grunt, knowing it will be straining on her muscles to pull herself back up. “Don’t touch the floor; you are not to be on it unless given specific permission.”

I try not to smile as she sighs, strains to pull herself back up onto the gurney.

“Still waiting,” I remind her of my previous command. “I don’t have all day.”

She glances around again, shifts her weight to try to move the gurney closer. A decent plan, except I keep my foot against one of the gurney wheels, preventing it from moving. I want to see how she reacts to a command she can't follow through with. She slumps with defeat and I briefly wonder if she’ll simply not try. Then she makes a noise. Not an attempt to speak by any means, nor is it a sound of complaint, protest, or despair. Instead, it’s more of a grunt, an attempt to get my attention. I comply with her whims and turn to face her. “Well?” I demand, arching an eyebrow. “What’s the problem?”

She bows her head, traces a scale on her tail, and chews her bottom lip. I smile, happy with the obedience part of her improvements. I’ll still have to see how well she handles training later.

“Answer me,” I keep the command firm, but refrain from yelling at her. This is good, after all.

She hesitates, but then meets my gaze. “I can’t jump that far like this. I’d hit the floor, something you don’t want, and I cannot shift the gurney closer,” she murmurs, her shoulders slumping.

“So you can’t obey me?”

She flinches, but nods.

“There will be times when situations like that arise, where you are physically incapable of following a command, but not to do so would be disobeying. So what should you do?”

“Ask for help?” She suggests, her answer more of a hopeful guess than a confident reply.

“You don’t have permission to speak,” I state.

Instantly she closes her mouth, lips pressed tightly together, and fear clouds over her gaze.

“Theoretically, Bailey. You have permission to speak right now, but I mean that you won’t always. In fact, most times you won't, and it may not be me giving you the command that you cannot carry out; someone else may not wish to give you permission to speak. So, what do you do in this situation if there is no way for you to solve the problem?”

She bows her head again, clearly lost in thought. “There isn't anything I can do,” she decides finally. “If I cannot ask for help, or am refused if I am allowed to ask, and I can’t obey, then the only thing I can do is try to carry out an order, even if failing would mean breaking one of the rules. At least it would be better than outright refusing.”

I nod. “Yes, good, at least you are on the right track, no one will punish you as harshly for trying and failing to execute an order. You will still be disciplined, however, if it happens to be a different employee other than myself, and I will correct them if need be, but you should be prepared for that.”

She chews her lip and nods her head.

“So I will only tell you once more. Get in the water. Don’t touch the floor.”

She gauges the expanse a bit, shifts around on the gurney. I watch her tail muscles bunch and coil beneath her, then she launches herself, heedless to the fact that it will probably hurt. But she surprises me, and quite possibly herself, by clearing most of the jump, landing in the water, the tips of her fins still smack the edge of the tank, but she jumped farther than I thought she could from a sitting position on land. I watch her cringe, coil up momentarily to inspect her fin, know that it was likely very painful. I wait a moment, whistle sharply when they both begin to descend further. It only takes a couple of seconds for Bailey to break the surface again, and I note Suzie hovering under the water near her fin.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave,” I inform the girl, but I decide to let up on her for today.

She drags her fingers through the water.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Apology accepted. I realize that you are still adjusting to the new role, and I'll give you a few chances, but I want to see genuine improvement, you understand.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now your speaking privileges are being revoked once more. You will meet your trainer in an hour. I expect a decent report will be given to me after. Go.”

I watch her dunk back under before I walk away. I stuff my hands into the pockets of my lab coat as I walk back towards my office.

Things are finally going to go my way. Bailey is settling down, and Suzie seems to follow her everywhere and copy her at times. I train Bailey, she trains Suzie, and I end up with perfect performers.

I still remember the day Suzie came here, small, frightened, and wide-eyed. I had seen her potential then, too, but hadn’t been in the position of authority then to have had any say in how she was handled and trained. At the time, there was more focus on the science, than the exhibit. They’d wanted to know everything possible about her.

I tip back in my chair and put my feet up. That day had been exciting. It was the day my world turned upside down too, my entire career was about to be challenged. Science and myth were about to clash. It was beautiful.

_I smooth the wrinkles from my lab coat, and stuff my hands in the pockets. Dr. Patron had gone for the specimen, and we were all eager for his return. The excitement bubbling in me even managed to trump the bitter dislike I hold for the man. We were hired by different departments in the marine biology section around the same time, yet he has risen to a position of relatively higher power, despite the short time of employment. I had higher credentials, but they admired his cold heart towards his work, pouring his mind into it, without second thought. I, on the other hand, liked to think of the future, rather than the immediate knowledge. It wasn’t the most popular opinion, though lately I’d been getting some recognition._

_My thoughts return to the present when Dr. Patron comes striding through the loading docks entrance, a smug look on his face. A helper from the garages is right behind him, pushing a large dolly with a wooden crate on it. It takes only a few moments for the helper to tear the lid off the crate. A pair of thick gloves cover Dr. Patron’s hands as he reaches into the crate. A hiss resounds from inside the crate moments before he hauls our prize out and onto the floor by its tail. Brown hair falls to its chest, frames the face of what looks like a five or six year old child. Large, crystal blue eyes, that couldn’t possibly get much wider, are full of fear as they dart from person to person surrounding her. Bright, sapphire blue scales gleam like little gemstones on the, slightly stubby, tail that is her body from the waist down. The fin is a wide, deeply cut fluke that is a lighter blue with two navy blue circles in the middle. Within each of those two circles are a bright white spot. The creature’s lips are pulled back in a fearful snarl, revealing tiny incisors. She curls her fin close to her body, and despite the threatened pose, I note the moisture in the corners of her eyes and see more than the fish. I see the terrified baby, torn from its mother, and know that we have to be careful with it._

_The chief of the biology department steps forward so he towers over the mermaid, who glances up and shies away almost instantly. “I want a full physical exam done immediately, complete sets of x-rays and proper samples taken and documented as soon as possible,” he orders. “Anyone stepping up to get it done?”_

_I raise my hand, eager for a chance to study this creature. “I-”_

_“I will,” Dr. Patron raises his voice over mine. “I already had the lab space prepped before I left.”_

_“Very well, I’ll expect documents on my desk by tonight,” Dr. Calloway decides. “You are all dismissed.” I watch him walk away, disappointed and angered. Still, it isn't worth arguing over, so I make my way back to my workspace to finish my own work._

**_It’s_ ** _late when I finally finish filing my own documents away and leave the office. As I walk down the empty, dimly lit halls, I take a moment’s pause outside the door of one of the tank rooms. This is where they are keeping the mermaid. Swiping my key card, I push the door open and peer inside. The tank is open, no lid on it; not that the creature could go anywhere anyways, and is knee high and about two meters long on all sides. The creature has her back to me, her small hands hugging her shoulders as she rocks herself, slowly, back and forth, her head and shoulders above the water. Wanting simply to observe, I silently close the door so not to alert her, and step forward._

_Remaining oblivious, the child continues to rock gently. I strain to hear the soft whispers escaping her, eager to learn the type of vocals these creatures make._

_“Mommy… Mommy, please…want to go home…come get me, mommy, please. I am scared.”_

_I listen, in shock, to her sobbing pleas, a smile forming slowly on my face. The reports hadn’t spoken of this, Dr. Patron clearly didn’t know. The mermaid was intelligent, spoke English, and I was the only one who knew. For now though, perhaps it had best stay that way. It can be a special secret that I can hold, something that Dr. Patron won’t know. In the future, I’ll utilize it._

I readjust my glasses, breaking out of my daze. To this day, I remain the only one who knows about Suzie’s little secret. I’ve been considering revealing it, at least back at her, so that I can start training her properly. I’ve let her keep her secret and in truth she’s done a very good job, though, once you know, it becomes a little obvious. She reacts to things we say, subtlety and not all the time, but she does do it. It makes me wonder how no one else has noticed, though I suppose that being aware of it makes her actions much more obvious.

I know that Bailey lies to me too, about Suzie, that she’s helping hide her friend’s intelligence, but I won't call her out on it. She’s a good girl, just needs to be taught properly. She’s strong and receptive, so she’ll learn fast, in fact it’s why I chose her. Katherine Waters. She never knew it, but she was decently famous in the photography world, gaining more and more response, even a small fan base, but I doubt she was aware of the attention, no one approached her directly. I watched her for months, learned her habits, her qualities, likes and dislikes. She had a certain affinity for the water not too many people her age had. She didn’t surf, and when she swam, she tried to stay under as long as possible. That was where she always was, under the water. Snorkeling, diving, holding her breath, she was constantly beneath the waves. And so it was only fitting that she be the one I make belong there. Not that she’ll ever be beneath the waves, but she is beneath the surface which is close enough in my opinion.

It was… regrettable that she had a family to leave behind, that she was happy, but she fit the role so perfectly, was so easy to lure, and most importantly, was genetically, physically, and mentally strong enough to survive the transition. I never told her, but with the animals, and the comma patients, the change didn’t take so well. Normally they started to whither after a few weeks with the tail. She’s excelled far better than I could have hoped, though I made sure she thought the opposite, even scared her a little with termination, something no one would consider doing because of the effort and funds that have been put into Bailey. Not to mention how it would look if she disappeared and a new mermaid showed up.

I lean further back in my chair, think back on the day we brought her here. It was a carefully conducted plan that began with email contact, a job offering.

_I sit at the computer, stare at the words I’ve written, double checking for flaws._

_**To Miss Katherine Waters,**_

**_My name is Johnathan West, and my wife and I are in Australia on our honeymoon. We both recently received our basic diving certifications and are hoping to plan an excursion during our stay. We’ve been informed that we’ll be hard pressed to find both a dive master and the photographer we would like to hire on such short notice without expending unreasonable amounts of money. We were then informed of you and told it was in our best interests to contact you as you can cover both jobs._ **

**_Just to clarify, you are a certified dive master?_ **

**_I have reviewed your online portfolio and I am very impressed. I would like to hire you for a two hour excursion this Friday and again on the Saturday. Are you available and what sort of rates do you have?_ **

**_-Johnathan_ **

_Everything seems to be in order, so I hit send, before returning to my work while waiting for a response._

**_I_ ** _rush to the computer when it whirs to life, signalling an email not three hours later._

**_Mr. West,_ **

**_I am flattered that you like my work, and would be honored to photograph your honeymoon excursion._ **

**_Yes, I am certified as a dive master as well, but I’m afraid that you have been given misleading information. While I am certified, I cannot be both photographer and dive master. The dive master’s job is to guide the excursion and make sure everyone gets topside safely, while a photographer’s job is to take high quality images. Both jobs cannot be effectively done by one person, and since it is crucial that my attention not be on the camera, you would not end up with many or good quality photos like I'm sure you were hoping for. As of this point in time, I am available for a weekend excursion, but if you want my services, I'm afraid that you will have to hire me as one or the other and fill the remaining job slot._ **

**_I'm terribly sorry if this is an inconvenience, but safety comes first and it really isn’t worth your money to hire me as a photographer as well because they will not be good pictures._ **

**_However, if you are willing to find someone else, I may be able to help you find a dive master on short notice, but it would mean paying separate people._ **

**_-Katie_ **

_I curse silently as I read the email. I should have considered that. It’s crucial she be alone, but no one hires one person for two jobs like that; not when it’s a dangerous sport like diving. I try to mend the error without trying her patience._

**_Miss Waters,_ **

**_I perfectly understand your concern. I am afraid that no one is available. My son is with us, as this is a late marriage; he is working through his diving courses and has taken a course, but has yet to be certified completely as a dive master. He is the one who encouraged us to get ours as well. I am unfamiliar with diving as a whole, but is it possible that him being with us would allow you to better focus on your camera. Technically you would still be dive master, be he is trained. I am so eager to share this memorable experience with my wife and son, I will pay you well, but I fear that there is simply not enough time to hire anyone else in such a tourist rich dive area like this._ **

**_-Johnathan._ **

_Again, I reread my words before deciding to include a price suggestion, one that anyone would be hard pressed to refuse. Her response only takes moments now that she’s clearly online._

**_Mr. West,_ **

**_I fear that you may be over qualifying me in your mind. You are aware that I am only in my teenaged years and while experience allows me to yield high quality photos, I have not yet been to school for it, can hardly call myself professional. It makes me wonder why you want me so badly. I can understand that time is an issue, and technically, I can legally do both jobs, but I wonder if you realize that diving can be dangerous and that you are entrusting your lives with a sixteen year old. I am not ashamed to admit I am very young, and I have been ridiculed and scrutinized for it, but it is true and I encourage you to understand what you are asking. Split attention between two different jobs…_ **

_There’s no sign off, as though she is incredibly concerned, probably is._

**_Miss Waters,_ **

**_I am aware of your age and lack of degree. My wife and I have talked and this is something we truly wish to do. My son is confident that he can provide assistance as a dive master to allow you some breathing room. I have given an offer, one you are more than welcome to counter offer if you feel it is too little for your services. However, if it genuinely makes you uncomfortable, I suppose we can attempt to look elsewhere, I am only asking because I fear that this is our only option aside from forgoing the dive all together._ **

**_-Johnathan_ **

_Trying to placate and guilt trip her at the same time seems like the best way to sway her. Luckily it works. Her reply takes almost twenty minutes, but yields promising results._

**_Mr. West,_ **

**_Your price offer is more than generous, I have no desire to charge more, however it is my job to let you know my opinion on the matter and I think it is a bad idea. Still, if you are this determined, I will play the dual role, but I must insist that we do two one hour dives on different days instead of a single two hour dive. Or a single, one hour dive would be even better. You can pay me less, in fact, I encourage that as well. I genuinely feel that at least going for less time or at least spreading it out, is in everyone’s best interest safety wise as it provides less time for something to go wrong, and, if we spread it out, allows me more of a chance to get a few decent photos._ **

**_-Katie_ **

_I’ve got to give the girl credit, she is very honorable and seems to genuinely care about her clients rather than her paycheck. I send her a quick agreeing response and the times I would like. Time to set the rest of the plan in motion._

**_I_ ** _watch, from the safety of my car, through the tinted windows for my target. A quick glance at my watch tells me I should see her any moment now. I know she had most of her stuff boarded on the boat last night and all that’s left is for her to meet her ‘clients’ today before departure._

_Then I spot her, sandals sinking in the sand, tanned skin the color of melted caramel candies, sun-streaked brown hair flying loose in the light breeze, calm, friendly hazel eyes, and that single front lock of hair highlighted with violet dye define the features of Katherine Waters. She’s wearing light blue denim shorts and a T-shirt that advertises the marine park she calls home. A well-used tan backpack hangs from one shoulder as she walks across the sand towards the docks. I carefully remove my weapon from its spot, concealed under a blanket in the backseat. The thin nozzle and feathered darts of the tranquilizer only take seconds to have ready and aimed at the unsuspecting teen. I’ve used it many times before on sea birds and, using only relaxants instead of full tranquilizer darts, on porpoises as well. I crack open the window and aim it, wait for her to get an appropriate distance away. No one will hear the silent gun and she will barely feel much more than a sting, like from a bee. Or at least she shouldn’t._

_With confidence, I pull the trigger. I watch her stumble as it hits, watch her turn, eyes full of confusion and slight pain, her hand groping for the dart protruding from her shoulder blade. She tugs it out, stares at it with a frightened look. It doesn’t take long for her to sink to her knees, eyes drooping as the drug takes effect. I step from the car and cross the deserted beach towards her just as she falls to the sand. I grab her by the arm, haul her up and drape her arm across my shoulders so that if somebody walks by it will look like I'm helping her._

_Katherine makes a small, faint noise of protest at the back of her throat, words slurring as she tries to say something. I pay her no mind as I drag her back to the car and lay her inside. The drugs are effective, but it takes a little while for complete shutdown to occur with the type I’ve given her._

_As I start the engine, she grunts, tries to sit up, even manages to lift her head a few centimeters off the seat before it lolls and drops back down._

_I drive in silence to a secluded grove of trees about a mile away and stop the car, drag her out. By this point she’s barely conscious, unable to do more than move her eyes to glance at me. She looks scared, so I gently rub her cheek with my thumb. “You’re okay,” I whisper to her as I pull open the trunk. “I’m just trying to take you home, girl.”_

_Inside the trunk is the wooden crate she’ll be transported in, along with a few other supplies. I tug a blanket free. We’ll need her clothes for the corpse so I remove them and wrap her in the wool blanket. She’s no longer coherent enough to do any protesting, probably can’t even process what’s going on. I pick her up and slide her body into the crate. I position another dart against the skin of her arm. If she wakes up and moves it even a few centimeters, she’ll prick herself and fall back to sleep. I don’t want her waking before we arrive. Checking to make sure she has ample breathing holes, I close and latch the crate, shut the trunk, and begin driving to the airport._

Yes, Katherine Loraine Waters had been an excellent choice for this, and the two of them are going to be marvelous when I’ve finished training them up, and will certainly gain me a substantial amount of recognition.

I push away from my desk, shut down my computer, put away my files, and head down to check on their performance training session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an aside, because I don't think I've ever announced it on this site, I do run a discord for anyone interested in joining and chatting about books and media and honestly some of the most random conversations I've ever had, both in text and over voice chat. It's big fun and there's lots of fanart and debates about CotM and my other stories. 
> 
> Anyone who wants to join is more than welcome, just follow this link: https://discord.gg/qeTrGEY 
> 
> We love new faces, so don't be shy to come say hello and be wacky with us.


	17. Training Day

**Luna**

Being back in the bigger tank is nice. It only takes me a few seconds after the scientist leaves to tackle Katie into a headlock. Our roles are quickly reversed however and I end up pinned under her arm. She rubs a fist against my scalp, laughing as she does. “How’s this working for you?” She asks in a teasing tone as I twist in her grip. She lets go of me and shoves me before darting away. I let everything else melt away as I pour myself into the task of chasing her down as she darts all over the place. Katie is always commenting on how fast and skilled I am, but I’ve always been in awe at her dexterity. The way she can stop suddenly or make sharp turns, darting in winding paths is incredible. I don’t have that sort of maneuverability and I find it really amazing.

I'm just reaching for her fin to tag her when she shows another example of this, stopping suddenly and dropping in the water at the exact same time, then spinning and taking off in the opposite direction, leaving me to scramble to a stop and give chase again. She glances back, her tongue between her teeth. “Come on, Luna, I thought you were faster than this,” she teases. I huff, put on a burst of speed, and grab a hold of her fin. She laughs. “Alright, fair enough. I will count to five.”

I don’t waste a second in swimming away, but before we can really get back into it, a sharp whistle cuts our play short.

Katie glances at the surface, angling her head to try and see better. “I wonder if that’s the trainer that Dr. Auldon mentioned,” she mutters. “We had better go up before they shock us.”

I nod reluctantly and follow her to the top of the tank.

When we break the surface, I direct my gaze at the deck to get a look at the person there. Kneeling down on the platform is Elizabeth, her fingers in her mouth and the start of another whistle dying in her throat. “There you are,” she says, her gaze directed at Katie. My friend swims over and pulls herself out to sit on the edge of the deck, wringing out some of the water from her hair. I follow her lead and sit on the deck, not fully sure how to do the total compliance thing.

“Are you also our trainer?” Katie asks before quickly covering her mouth.

Elizabeth laughs. “No, I'm not. I’m just here to take you to the training pool. You didn’t think you would be practicing here did you?”

Katie blushes, but nods.

“Well, you're not,” Elizabeth states. “Now come on, let’s get going.” She stoops to lift Katie up onto the waiting gurney, sitting her down near the front. Then she turns to me. “Okay, sweetie; let’s do this nice,” she murmurs, mostly to herself as she quickly lifts me too and sets me down next to Katie, then begins to push the gurney down the hall.

“Umm…” Katie hesitates to continue.

“Sweetie, you know I’m never going to get you into trouble right?” Elizabeth stares at Katie as she says it.

Katie drags a finger across her scales. “Well, yeah, I just…”

Elizabeth squeezes Katie’s shoulder. “What were you going to ask?”

“How this works,” Katie replies. “With the trainer. Is it going to be verbal commands or… and what sort of stuff are we supposed to be doing, because I just got good at swimming, I have no idea how to do like flips and stuff and-”

“Breathe,” Elizabeth suggests. “Relax. No, as far as I know, it won’t be verbal commands. I believe that they’re putting you in with a trained dolphin and want you to copy them while learning the signals. I have no idea what types of tricks, but I'm sure that you can watch the dolphin and Suzie, since she apparently is pretty good, and figure something out. I highly doubt that they expect you to be perfect on the first day. Just do your best.”

Katie nods. “Yeah, okay.”

I lean into her, squeeze her hand, and try to reassure her.

“I'm sure you’ll be fine, now sit back and stay quiet, we have to make a quick stop first.”

“Where?” Katie asks suddenly. I grab the handle of the gurney as Elizabeth takes a bit of a sharp turn.

“I believe you had a hair appointment,” Elizabeth answers in a teasing tone as she ruffles Katie’s hair.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. Thank goodness.”

Elizabeth laughs. “Okay, didn’t take you for an obsessive fashion girl, but alright. Now seriously, quiet down, I will never forgive you if you get us into trouble.”

“I am not obsessing over my hair, it’s just so long and in my face is all,” Katie grumbles, and then holds her hands up. “Okay, okay, I get it, shutting up now.”

Elizabeth chuckles softly and shakes her head as she steers the gurney into a room that, like every other room in this place, is a starch white color. A counter with a sink and several cupboards lines the one wall, while a large mirror claims another. In the center of the room, facing the mirror, is a large, brown, strange chair that is coated in what looks like an uncomfortable and shiny brown fabric. There are straps and a weird contraption attached to the chair. A woman is standing by the chair, her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently. I recognize her as the woman from the day of the opening. The one who was playing with my hair and face. I do not like her at all.

“Why are they not restrained in any way?” The woman demands, her dark brown eyes narrowing at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth shrugs. “It’s not like they can go anywhere anyways,” she replies. “Restraining them is a hassle and they’ve both been really well-behaved this morning, so it’s a good opportunity to gain trust and reward good behavior.”

The woman grunts. “Just get her into the chair so I can do my job.”

Elizabeth nods and picks Katie up, gently depositing her on the chair. The other woman moves closer and straps Katie’s wrists to the arms of the chair. She then takes Katie’s tail and bends it underneath the chair so she can strap it down against the underside. The strange square contraption is clasped over Katie’s chest and her head is fitted into a thick metal, half-hoop.

“Is all that really necessary?” Elizabeth inquires.

The other woman nods. “Yes. I don’t want her fidgeting or moving around while I’m trying to work, now please, back up and give me some space. Did Dr. Auldon say what he wanted?”

Elizabeth nods and passes over a small piece of paper. The woman takes it, her eyes darting back and forth as she examines the page. Then she sets it down with a nod. “Alright. I’ll start with her bangs then.” She picks up a small thin brush with bristles lined in a single row one after the other. She sprays Katie’s hair and then brushes out the small locks at the front of her head. She then pulls out a small pair of scissors and proceeds to cut the smaller hairs even shorter. Thin, brown wisps of hair flutter down to rest on the amethyst scales of Katie’s tail. One piece balances on Katie’s nose and her face scrunches up seconds before she sneezes. The hair is blown off her nose, but Katie sneezes once more and sniffs a couple of times. The woman fixes her a glare and Katie lowers her gaze. Finishing with the front hairs, the woman moves behind Katie and begins to brush out the long locks. She then gathers up Katie’s hair and ties it with a little, stretchy, black circle, making Katie’s hair look like a long tail down her back. Taking out a larger pair of scissors, the woman makes one cut, just underneath the black thing. I gasp slightly, stunned as the long trail of hair drops to the floor, now severed. I can see her face in the mirror, and Katie looks just as stunned. The woman pulls the black circle from her hair, allowing it to fall free. It pools around her head, but the ends now only brush against her chin.

After some more brushing and a few more cuts from the small scissors, the woman finally steps back and begins to brush the hair off Katie’s tail and sweeping up the hair from the floor. “Am I doing the younger one too?”

Elizabeth shakes her head, allowing me to relax and sigh with relief. “No, just Bailey.”

“Alright, well you can take her now.”

Elizabeth nods and begins to release Katie from the chair. She picks her up and sets her back down next to me, and then steers the gurney out the door. As we move down the hall, I bring a hand up and gently brush my fingers over the severed ends of Katie’s hair. I know that the ends were fake before, but even her real hair is gone now. Katie follows my movements, running a hand through her hair, her hand pausing at the end as though expecting it to be longer still. “Everything okay?” Elizabeth asks, her gaze focused on Katie.

“Yeah,” Katie replies, letting her hand fall back into her lap. “It’s just really short, is all.”

“I thought you wanted it shorter?” Elizabeth says.

“I did,” Katie confirms, “it’s just weird is all. I’ve never had my hair this short before. It feels a little strange, I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Well it doesn’t look bad,” Elizabeth says. “Looks kind of pretty that way. It was a little too long and too dark against your scales before. Now everything is balanced out.”

Katie nods, but she doesn’t reply. “At least it won’t be in my face anymore,” she agrees finally. The talk is cut short when Elizabeth takes us into a new room, shockingly a white one. A large pool built into the floor takes up most of the space, only rimmed by a tiled deck, a few cupboards and a gate in the pool that leads to a conjoining room. A man stands near the edge of the pool dressed a thick, black material that covers both his torso and legs in one piece. A shark decorates the chest of the clothing and a small thin whistle threaded onto colorful braided rope hangs from his neck. He has spikey brown hair and brown eyes. His lips are pursed into a thin line as he stares at us.

“This them?” He asks.

“Yes,” Elizabeth replies. “Bailey and Suzie.” She points to each of us respectively. “I was told to give you these,” she offers him two small remotes. I tense at the sight of them, know that they control the collars. “They’re for the collars, in case you have any trouble with them, the names are written on the remotes. But I’d also just like to let you know that it may take a few tries for them to get it, especially Bailey, who is still new to swimming, much less doing tricks. Maybe just take it easy on them the first little bit.”

The man grunts. “If I take it easy, they’ll never learn. We only have a thin margin of error and they will learn quickly or face the consequences. Now please, get them into the water and leave me to my work.”

Elizabeth nods and pushes the gurney up to the edge of the water. She places a hand on Katie’s spine and gives her a gentle shove, causing Katie to fall forward into the pool. I follow her into the water without any prompting.

The second I’m submerged, I notice the dolphin in the pool, hovering near the back. Racing by Katie, I dart towards it, eager to meet the only other ocean creature I’ve had contact with in a very long time. Besides Katie of course, but that’s not the same. I twirl around the sleek creature a few times before coming to hover in front of him. He butts his beak against my collarbone and I press my cheek against his forehead. _“You are a long way from home, little one,”_ he states in the whistling language dolphins use. _“You poor thing, you must have gotten separated from your mother, didn’t you?”_

I nod. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Katie tense and glance around before her gaze settles on us. She looks a little stunned and confused. I laugh, shoulders shaking. I forgot that she does not know. We can understand most ocean creatures and learn many of their languages. Dolphin is the easiest, and the only one that I know. Not that I can speak it now.

I tell Katie about the language thing and her face lights up. “Really? Wow, that’s awesome. But um,” she blushes slightly, arms folding behind her back. “How do I talk to him?”

The dolphin turns to face my friend, nudges her gently. _“Speak with the back of your throat, cluck your tongue and whistle a little.”_

I watch Katie swallow and blink slowly. After a moment’s hesitation she opens her mouth and a shrill whistle leaves her. She quickly clamps her jaw shut once more, clearly startled.

_“Alright, now try again. Try to be a little less shrill and let us hear some words, alright?”_

Katie nods and tries again. _“Th-this is rea-really co…cool,”_ she stutters a little over the words, but manages to spit out a decent sentence.

_“Better. You will get the hang of it in no time. You are shaking, child; is it your first day of training?”_

Katie and I both nod. “Yeah,” Katie admits, returning to English. “I’m nervous.”

_“Relax; that is why I am here. Simply pay attention to the trainer’s signals and watch me. I will have you in decent shape quickly. It is important if you want to end the day with a full stomach. My name is Rajeez, have the two of you got names?”_

“My name is Katie, this is Luna,” Katie replies.

 _“It is nice to meet both of you, I- oh,”_ he breaks off and turns to face the surface as a sharp whistle sounds. _“We had better go now. Come on.”_

Katie and I follow him up to the surface, where the trainer is standing over us, hands on his hips and his whistle between his teeth. He kneels down and sticks a hand out in front of Rajeez. He brings his beak up to meet his palm. The trainer raises his hand and Rajeez follows it until his flippers clear the water. Then the trainer lowers his hand, bringing the dolphin back down, and tossing him a fish. His gaze then shifts to Katie and he repositions his hand in front of her. I watch her swallow nervously and then she meets his palm with the bridge of her nose. His hand is so close that she only needs to tilt her head back in order to accomplish this. I watch her struggle to keep contact as he raises his hand up. The further up he lifts it, the slower she becomes when meeting it. Finally, with a determined snort, she flicks her fin with a fair bit of force, clearly more than she intended, and her face collides with his hand. She falls back in the water, clearly startled and thrown off balance, and rubs at her nose.

The trainer toots on his whistle, the shrill noise making me wince, and sticks his hand out in front of her again. He forces her to repeat it again, and then again when she fails a second time. After a fourth unsuccessful time, the trainer appears fed up. He presses the button on one of the remotes and Katie winces, her hand flying to her neck. I chew my lip, wanting so badly to snarl at the man responsible for hurting her. It is not her fault, she is trying, and she is just still very new to her tail. I curl my lip, but a sharp glare from Katie kills the hiss that was previously building in my throat. I decide to settle for staring at the water. Doing so means I don’t notice that I’ve become the main focus of our trainer. When the whistle sounds, I nearly jump out of my scales. I snap my head up to see his hand stretch out a few centimeters above my head. For a moment, I hesitate and debate refusing, before I sigh and give in, stretching up to brush my forehead against his hand.

I mess up twice, but manage to stay with him on the third try. I’m rewarded with a small chunk of fish, probably small because I can’t swallow a fish whole like Rajeez and this will be faster. Eating it reminds me of my hunger. We weren’t fed yesterday, this is probably why. I glance over at Katie, who has her head down. I know she’s afraid. The trainer uses his whistle, catching our attention again. He makes a motion with his hand, one that, despite my fluency in sign language, I don’t recognize. A glance at Katie tells me she does, but she looks exceedingly hesitant to try whatever command it was. Rajeez takes off though. I turn to watch him, learn what I am supposed to do. He arcs out of the water in a simple jump where his body just barely leaves the water. The second he re-enters the water, he jumps again in the same fashion, doing it a total of three times. The trick looks pretty, but is a little more complicated than it seems with such precise and sudden timing to it. A toot from the whistle reminds me that Katie and I are supposed to do it too. I glance at her, give her a reassuring nod, and dunk under the water. I manage okay, though it takes me a couple of strokes between each jump before going into the next one. I follow Rajeez back to the deck. He’s rewarded with a fish and I receive a tiny piece of fish, significantly smaller than the previous one, so I take it as an indication that I’m expected to improve. I didn’t get a chance to see how Katie managed but it clearly wasn’t successful because she earns nothing more than another pressed button.

Six tricks later, I’ve been shocked twice and Katie’s neck is looking very red and irritated, and tears are beginning to brim in her eyes. I swim over and touch her arm.

I jump, startled, when a throat is cleared loudly. I turn to see Dr. Auldon standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. He walks up to the trainer. “Mr. Olin, how are things going in here?” He inquires.

“Fine,” the trainer replies.

“Really?” False interest enters Dr. Auldon’s voice. He folds his arms over his chest once more. “Because the collars on our little friends over there are both equipped with transmitters that record each time that they activate. And Suzie’s has activated twice and Bailey’s has been going haywire, so either there is a glitch in the system or there has been a problem. And if there has been a problem, then I need to know about it because the two of them are being strictly disciplined until their behavior and routine are perfected. So I'll ask again, was there a problem?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” the trainer states coldly. “Are you calling me incapable of doing my job?”

“No, I’m not, but I would like a more detailed explanation.”

The trainer sighs. “Nothing, but they are in need of some rigorous work as their attempts are far from good, especially the older one. I’ve been using the remote as an attempt to motivate improvement. It has been thus far unsuccessful, but I will continue to work on her.”

A muscle feathers in Dr. Auldon’s jaw. “Mr. Olin, I appreciate your efforts, but I think that’s enough for today. I will take over from here, please lead the dolphin out and be on your way. Go to the front desk and tell Mrs. Edwards that I want her to give you an advance on your paycheck. I will call you next week to schedule another session.”

The trainer crosses his arms. “I am a professional and I cannot simply be dismissed like this.”

Dr. Auldon raises an eyebrow. “I hired you, I am paying you, and I will dismiss you if I feel the need. If you don’t like the conditions, don’t come back, I am capable of finding someone else. Either way, take this dolphin back to its pool and leave.”

I sink lower in the water. Even though I know that the angry voices aren’t focused on me, I can’t help but shy away from any of the scientists when they raise their voices; it normally means bad things for me. I press my shoulder against Katie’s while the trainer storms about and orders Rajeez through the gate before he hurries out. Katie takes my arm and squeezes, her breathing shaky and quick.

Once the trainer has left, Dr. Auldon glances our way. “Don’t think I’m defending you, Bailey, or that I’ve done you any favors. I just don’t need to deal with an uproar from the public if either of you show signs of electrical burns. Now then, care to explain yourself?” he demands. His footfalls clap against the concrete of the floor, echoing in the enclosed room as he approaches the edge of the pool. Katie hesitates and swallows heavily. “I-I I'm trying, I swear, I just-” she breaks off for a moment and takes another shaky breath. “It’s just like he said… I am not very good. I have no idea what I am doing, I can’t even do a backflip underwater, much less do tricks leaping out of it,” she glances down. “But I swear, I am trying really hard, I want to do it right, to be better, just please don’t be mad, please, I’ll-”

“Stop,” Dr. Auldon interrupts. “When, in the two and a half months you have been here, have I tolerated rambling or indulged pleading?”

“Never,” Katie whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll overlook it this once. Now, you can relax, I knew well ahead of time that you would have a rocky and likely very poor start. That was why I came down to intervene. I’d rather not have your neck blistered and swollen for the opening tomorrow. Now, about how rocky a start we’re having. Show me.”

Katie wets her lips, meets his gaze, and hesitantly begins to raise her hand slightly. The motion confuses me but I simply decide it’s some human thing and leave it at that. Dr. Auldon arches an eyebrow. “Not something that counts as being allowed,” he states. “Still, better than simply talking outright. Speak.”

“You haven’t uh, given me any specific command… do you want me to just pick?”

Dr. Auldon seems impressed as he leans back slightly. “No, I don’t. I want to see a flip, single front flip, jump as high as you can. I don’t care if it’s something you’ve covered it or not, do it.”

Katie nods and dunks under the water. Seconds later she leaps free into the air and throws her weight forward. At first I think she may actually pull it off, but after throwing her weight forward, she can’t do much else and it becomes a sloppy curled dive instead of a flip.

“Well, we’ll work on it,” Dr. Auldon states. “Now, I have another matter to attend to. Get out of the water.”

“Oh, okay,” Katie replies as she braces her hands on the deck.

“Not you,” Dr. Auldon stops her as he focuses his gaze on me. I flinch under his intense gaze. “Get out of the water, I won't ask again.” Katie places a hand on my back, gently pushes me forward. The look on her face indicates that she’s trying to help protect my secret by encouraging me as though I couldn’t understand. “Stop, don’t touch her, move back,” Dr. Auldon commands sharply. Katie flinches and retreats a few strokes away.

I turn to face her and seconds later a hand is fisting through my hair. Tears prick in the corners of my eyes as I’m dragged back and out of the water. “For someone who should be well aware of the consequences of disobedience, you aren’t very good at listening,” Dr. Auldon snaps. His hand grabs my chin, fingers squishing my cheeks as he drags my gaze to his. His thumb slides roughly, almost harshly, down my cheek. “Such a naive child. All these years you’ve thinking that you’re keeping this great secret, a little sliver of power and triumph that you have over us, when in reality, it’s been known from the start.”

I feel my eyes widen in fear. He can’t possibly know.

“That, right there, is one of your major giveaways. Your tendency to, very obviously, react to everything people say. If I had been bluffing and guessing, you would have just given yourself away. Now can you imagine how Dr. Patron is going to react when he finds out? He’ll be furious,” Dr. Auldon says. I can’t help but shudder and try to pull away. Dr. Auldon’s grip on my chin tightens. “Yes, he’ll be furious and he’ll feel cheated. Anger and ruined pride don’t mix well with a man like him. Imagine for a moment how he’s going to take it, how he’ll react, and what sort of pain that will mean for you.”

Tears prick in my eyes at the thought of the man that terrorizes my dreams. If he found out, he would likely gut me and keep torturing me for days on end as long as it didn’t kill me.

Dr. Auldon nods. “It would not be very pretty. Quite the bloody and gruesome mess to be cleaned up afterwards…”

I tug away from him, now desperate to get back into the water, into as close to safety as I can get right now. I’m grabbed again.

“You’re scared. Good, you should be. He would end you. We would be short a mermaid because he would kill you in the most inventively painful way he can think of after dragging it out as long as possible, long after you begged him for death. Child, breathe, you’re whiter that a sheet. I’m simply stating the obvious. Back to that, it would be the end of your existence… good thing I don’t plan to tell him.”

My head snaps up, knowing there’s a catch, but willing to take it anyways.

“I don’t plan to tell him, it can stay a secret. Of course, if you cannot behave yourself and be the picture of obedience, then I cannot promise that I won’t slip up in front of him. Therefore, I'm going to lay down some simple ground rules for you and you can choose whether to follow them or not, though I highly suggest that you do. So, for starters, you will quit the awful hissing and snarling that you are so fond of, I should be able to shove my hand in your mouth and not have even the slightest concern of being bitten, secondly you shall do exactly as you are told the moment you are told to do it. You will not cower in the presence of people, especially guests, and will instead interact friendly and eagerly. You will cease to attempt to intimidate new staff, and I expect to see a smile on your face at all times when the exhibit is open. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

I swallow heavily and nod my head, wiping at my eyes and wet cheeks.

“Do you have any questions?” I shake my head again. “Good, so we’re in agreement then?”

I sniff, try to still my trembling, and nod again.

“I would like to hear an actual response,” Dr. Auldon states dryly. I hesitate, my lips parting a little, and then begin to chew on my lip and let my head fall. “Is there a problem?” Dr. Auldon demands.

I glance at Katie, suddenly terrified. I'm not willing to let him in on the sign language too. I see Dr. Auldon glance over too. “Come here, Bailey,” he orders. Katie doesn’t hesitate as she hurries over and pulls herself up onto the deck. She touches my shoulder. “Bailey, I have a feeling that there’s something Suzie wants you to tell me. So pipe up now please.”

“She can’t answer you,” Katie says. “She hasn’t been able to speak for a long time now. Yes or no questions pretty much sum up the extent of our communication.”

Really?” Dr. Auldon turns back to me. “You certainly weren’t mute when you were little and I don’t remember Dr. Patron recording any surgeries that had any remote possibility of touching or damaging your vocal cords. You wouldn’t happen to be lying to me would you?”

I shake my head frantically.

“And how do I know I can trust you enough to believe you?”

Katie makes a slight noise in the back of her throat, catching the scientist’s attention. “Speak.”

“Well, I guess there isn’t much either of us can do to convince you we’re trustworthy, but if you think about it; have you ever heard her scream or whimper, or make any other sound throughout any of the awful things that Dr. Patron has done to her? Maybe in the first year or so, but more recently? And technically if she is lying, can’t you hold threats over her head about the consequences of lying?” Katie states.

Dr. Auldon grunts. “I suppose. Now, regardless of her speech status, we have work to do. So I’m going to go and get a chart of the hand signs I expect you two to know by heart. Suzie, you will be responsible for showing Bailey correct maneuverability on performing these tricks. After I bring you the chart, I am going to leave you both here for four hours. If by then, your progress has impressed me, I will reward you with a good meal, if not you will wait until tomorrow night for you food, am I clear?”

I nod.

“Yes, sir,” Katie agrees, her head bowed.

“Good. Now go, I will return in a moment.”

 

***

 

I lean back, blow air bubbles out of my nose, and watch them rise to the surface, and then I try to send them up in unique patterns and strings. Beside me, Katie laughs. “What are you doing?”

I shrug. ‘Just trying to distract myself,’ I admit.

“I can’t believe he knew,” Katie replies. “How do you think he found out?”

‘I have no idea,’ I reply, chewing on my lip. ‘You do not think he will tell anyone else do you?’

“Nah,” Katie replies. “I mean we all know how Dr. Patron would react and I doubt that Dr. Auldon wants to deal with the angry scientist or the idea of having to close the exhibit again. And he certainly wouldn’t risk Dr. Patron killing you, it would kind of kill the mermaid attraction thing, don’t you think?”

I nod. ‘I guess so.’

“You okay? That was a pretty harsh revelation and some nasty threats.”

I nod, then shake my head and lean into her. She hugs me, pulling me back against her chest and resting her chin on my head. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” she whispers. “Want to do something? Take your mind off of it?”

I nod. ‘Okay.’

“Alright, well, what do you want to do? Play a game?”

I shake my head. I'm worn out from earlier and from all the training. Katie improved a lot, but apparently not enough to really impress Dr. Auldon, so we're both getting very hungry. ‘Will you-’ I break off, hesitant to ask.

“Will I what?” She asks.

‘Will you tell me a story? Like something from your childhood? Something happy?’

“Sure,” Katie agrees. “Let’s go inside and get settled, I’m exhausted.”

I nod in agreement and push off from the ground. Grinning at her, I take off in an unofficial race towards the cave. Once inside, I poke her and giggle, wallowing in my little victory.

“Oh, hush you,” Katie laughs. “Lie down, will you?” I comply, settling onto the plush seagrass. Katie takes a moment to settle in herself before she begins to speak. “So you want a happy memory story… what kind of happy memory story?”

I shrug. ‘I do not know. Anything. I just want to have a reason to be happy.’

“Okay. Let me think for a moment.”

‘Can it be something that involves the ocean?” I add, wanting to hear about the home I can barely remember.

“Yeah, no problem. Hmm. Oh, okay, I’ll tell you about my first dive.”

‘Dive? Like jumping into the water?’

“No, no, when I say dive, I mean that I put on a metal cylindrical tank thing full of air and some other equipment and it allows me to stay underwater for a longer period of time and be able to breathe.”

‘You have gills,’ I point out.

“Yeah, but I didn’t before. Diving is a human sport and several jobs revolve around it, including my dream job which is underwater photography.’

 ‘What is that?’

“Taking pictures of reefs and fish and stuff, sometimes other divers if you’re hired for an excursion,” she replies. I must have given her a confused look because she adds on, “never mind, it doesn’t matter. Anyways, when I was twelve I really started to get into photography, especially underwater, so Sophie signed me up for dive classes so that we could go on weekends occasionally. Everything went really well, I aced the pool sessions and the classes and did my open water dive in a deep river a few miles outside the city. Once I had my certificate, Sophie booked us for an excursion the next weekend, and she was so excited for it, even went out and bought me a proper underwater camera to replace the waterproof case that I had for my actual camera. I was really excited about it too, actually woke her up at four thirty in the morning… Very, very early,” she adds when she glances at my face. “I was determined to get there early just in case and spent the whole drive there bouncing in my seat and talking about what I hoped we would see. We talked and laughed the whole boat ride and Sophie teased me when I tripped over my own two feet and nearly went over the edge. I was having a blast until it was time to get in the water.  Suddenly, I was petrified; I couldn’t do it, clung to the rail in case someone would force me to go in and venomously refused to put my equipment on.

‘Why?’ I ask.

Katie shrugs. “No idea. I was fine in the pool and even in the river, but suddenly the thought of getting into the big blue terrified me. It took Sophie twenty minutes and an ice-cream bribe to get me to suit up and then another ten to coax me into the water. By then we had missed almost a third of our dive, but Sophie was really patient about it. But when I got in the water, all my fear instantly disappeared. Luna, the reef was gorgeous and so full of life. A manatee swam right in front of me, it was breathtaking,” Katie gushes, her eyes going slightly glassy, caught in the memory. “I got some really great photos… well they weren’t that great considering I was just starting out, but some awesome keepsakes at least. And the funny thing is that Sophie then had to fight to get me out of the water, even more so than she did to get me in. It was only after she reminded me that I would run out of air soon that I finally conceded and surfaced with the others. Diving became second nature after that,” she finishes with a shrug. “I really found my calling that day, never truly wanted to be anywhere else… except home with Soph that is.”

‘It sounds like you really love the water,’ I reply.

“I do,” Katie answers. “The tail would be so amazing if we weren’t here. So what about you? Any interesting stories?”

I shrug. ‘I have already told you most of what I remember. I was hoping that maybe hearing some of your memories might bring back some of my own. It did not work.’

Katie reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “You know, that’s actually not a bad idea. I'll talk some more about the ocean, okay? It may trigger something and it’s worth a try, right?”

I nod and smile at her. ‘Okay. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, but not tonight, I'm beat and I imagine that tomorrow will be busy. Let’s get some sleep okay?” Katie suggests.

I nod again and let my head fall to rest on my arm. Ten seconds later I sit up and move closer to Katie. She doesn’t hesitate to wrap her arm around me and pull me even closer, burying her face in my hair. “Goodnight, Luna, I love you.”


	18. A Shocking Discovery

**Olivia**

 

I brush a piece of the golden hair that’s fallen in my face back behind my ear and then readjust my glasses on my nose. I slide the prepped slide onto the microscope stand. The park rescued a sea lion last week. He came is with the thorn of a sea urchin embedded in his hind flipper. I removed spine five days ago and the infection isn’t clearing up, isn’t responding to any normal treatments for an urchin sting, so I took a sample to see if a strain of virus or bacteria is infecting the wound.

A soft knocking has me looking up to find Dustin Quill standing in the doorway; his ink black hair falling to his cheekbones, accenting his pale, freckled skin and gray eyes. “Hey,” he greets as he enters the room. “What are you working on?”

I push away from the desk and gesture towards the microscope. “Take a look if you want.”

He shrugs and leans over the microscope. “Cool… What is it?”

I shake my head, chuckle softly, and then push my hair back again. “It’s a sample from the flipper of the rescued sea lion. I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t healing. Turns out that he has a pretty nasty bacterial infection, probably had it long before he got the urchin thorn stuck.”

“Can you cure it?” Dustin asks.

I nod. “Yes, I’ll start administering the antibiotics as soon as possible, though they’ll need to be ordered and rushed. I’ll need your signature on that. In the meantime, I’ll take some blood samples and a few x-rays, make sure the infection hasn’t spread or done any damage,” I state.

Dustin nods, his eyes loosing focus for a moment as he thinks. “Alright. Get your order form printed up and filled out. Bring it to me and I’ll have it sent before the supply office closes tonight, we should have the stuff by Friday at the latest.”

“Okay,” I agree. “Now, I imagine you’re here for more than just checking on my work ethic,” I tease. “So what can I do for you?”

“Oh, right, yes. I needed the files with this month’s medical reports and expenses so that I can file them away. I’m a little behind with my spreadsheets.”

“Sure, no problem. I did them up last night; I just hadn’t gotten the chance to bring them down to you yet.” I walk over to the metal filing cabinet across the room, lift a stack of folders off the top of it, and hand them to him. “If you’re behind, do you want some help filing these? I can get Lindsey or Geoffrey to do up the order form.”

“That would be amazing, thank you,” Dustin sighs. That’s when I notice the bags forming under his eyes. Things have been rather crazy around here lately. There’s been a spike in beachings and other incidents, and our rescue funds are running low. On top of that, the drop in guest attendance has been a bit of a blow. It always gets pretty slow this time of year, but with all the extra expenses, I’m worried that we’re in worse shape than he’s letting on. Either way, Dustin has been working non-stop around the clock.

I leave a message with Alexis at the front desk; tell her it’s for either of the two interns, whichever should show up first. Then I follow Dustin back to his office. We’ve become good friends in the past thirteen years that we’ve known one another. I was in my second year of employment when he was hired as a manager here. Mrs. Colt, the owner of the park, is a very wealthy woman who owns a chain of different tourist attractions across the country from parks and zoos, to hotels, restaurants, and a horse-riding center. She has a simple pattern, raises the business herself for the first year and a half, two at most, and then hires a manager and moves on. She leaves us mostly to ourselves and collects fifteen percent of all profits every year. I haven’t seen her since a month after Dustin started and as far as anyone is concerned, Dustin might as well be the owner. Mrs. Colt doesn’t do much for the business after she appoints a manager. She can afford to let one go under and if it begins to happen, would likely just sell the land. I’ve never seen Dustin quite so stressed and I wish he would let me help a little more.

I have a moment of pause when we walk into Dustin’s office. Stacks of files and reports litter the desk, the floor by the desk, and on the countertop. “Dustin, is everything okay?” I demand.

He glances around, sighs, and nods. “Yeah, I’ve been going through some of the old benefactor files and funding reports, hoping to find some looked over funds. Look, we’ll be okay, good actually, we just need to get through this rough patch is all,” he runs his hand over his head. “Look, I am have to reduce the paychecks for a few weeks, just until-”

“Okay, Dustin relax; it’s not that bad. Reduce the paychecks a little, everyone will understand. I’ll get in contact with Clear-Side Marine Park in Oregon. Otters and seals are incredibly popular with the locals there, so they would definitely cover treatment costs. We can send a couple of the rescue seals and the two otters their way. We’d pay long distance gas which is far cheaper than the medical expenses,” I suggest. “We can forward several of the smaller rescues until we get back on our feet. We’re always given a bonus on critical rescues so we keep those. And we should start some advertising campaigns and fundraisers to get people interested. Milly, that female spinner dolphin that we rescued three weeks ago; she’s pregnant. Why not start there? There’s nothing people love more than a baby animal.”

Dustin nods. “You know what? Those are some good ideas. I was also thinking about starting up a new attraction. I wanted to use the empty tank out back, the one with the huge viewing area. Let me show you were I got the idea.” He hurries over to the computer and brings up a google search. Seconds later he has images of an Oceanarium up. He taps the screen. “This place has recently been opened fully to the public and has opened a massive hit attraction. At first I thought it was fake, but research papers and evidence say otherwise, look.” He enlarges an image of one of the tanks. The image is a little blurry but the two creatures in the massive tank are unmistakable.

“This is real?” I ask, my eyes scanning the pixelated tails.

Dustin nods. “Yeah, it is. I’ve been wanting to check it out myself, but I can’t leave or afford the trip at the moment. Anyways, because of this, interest in mermaids has skyrocketed. I was thinking we could take advantage of it and hire someone to dress up. It may attract a little attention,” he states as he scrolls through more images. He pauses on one very clear image where both mermaids are very clearly defined. They are different ages; that much is clear. The younger one has enlarged blue eyes, exceedingly long, light brown hair, and a slender tail coated in sapphire scales. Her older companion has hazel eyes, a face peppered in freckles. Her hair is cut short around her chin and is a very dark shade of brown. Her tail is a deep violet color. I find myself drawn to her face. “What do you think?” Dustin asks.

I nod. “Yeah, sure, that sounds great. Can you zoom in at all without distorting the image? Focus on the purple one.”

“Uh, sure, here,” Dustin replies, following my request.

I feel my eyes widen, suddenly more than sure. “Here, do you mind if I sign into my email a moment?”

Dustin steps out of the way and I sit down in the chair and open a new tab, clicking into my account. “What’s going on?” Dustin asks.

“Just a minute,” I reply as I pull up an image from a folder sent to me a few weeks ago. “You’re good with computers, right? With media arts and stuff?”

“Yes, I took several classes in college, why?” Dustin demands.

I stand up. “Here, sit, I need you to do something for me. Can you put this image and the mermaid one side by side?”

A few clicks and my request is complete. “Who is this girl?” Dustin asks, pointing to the image I brought up.

“Do you remember Lewis Pater?” I ask. “Australian marine vet?”

“Right, he’s the one that comes here every like four years, and you go there in between, right?”

I nod. “Yes, we meet up and exchange information and techniques, stuff like that. We went to university together. Anyways, the woman who owns the park that he works at is named Sophie. Sophie Brooks. I know her a little. She went to our school too, though she was in a different program, and she and Lewis have been close friends since high school. A few weeks ago, Lewis contacted me, asking me a favor. He knew that my brother in law was really good with computers,” I begin. “Here, can you take the background out of both of those pictures. Anyways, they had a bit of a tragedy down there. Sophie’s adoptive daughter, Katherine Waters, was killed in a hit and run accident. She was a sweet girl and an amazing photographer too; she’d have made a good career for herself. Lewis sent me a bunch of pictures hoping that Tony could put them into a high quality home movie. It was something he wanted to give to Sophie, give her a lasting keepsake because Katie was the last of her family. I didn’t know her really well or anything, but she’s been on my mind lately with the images and such. Now, would you be able to remove the hair from both of those? And get rid of the freckles on the mermaid?”

“Okay,” Dustin sounds a little weirded out, but he cuts the hair from both images. “But I don’t see what this girl has to do with… oh,” he breaks off as he finishes my final request. We stare in silence at the two images, now exactly identical. “What in the world?”

I let out a long breath of air. “When did this exhibit first open?”

“Two months ago,” Dustin answers.

I nod. “Two months ago. Katie was killed about two and a half months ago.”

“This has to be a coincidence, right?” Dustin asks as she glances at me. “I mean there’s no possible way…”

“Five minutes ago I would have told you that mermaids were impossible too,” I point out. “I think we may have a problem.”

 


	19. Looking Back

**Sophie**

**Past**

I smooth down the last piece of tape on the gift, turn over the box in my hands, checking for any missed parts that still need to be taped down. The starfish wrapping paper that covers her present is pretty and attractive, highlighting starfish and shells in a pattern of shapes and colors. Knowing Katie, she’d try to open the gift without tearing any piece of the paper. She was like that, careful, despite the fact that it will be recycled. Just to bug her, I’ve thoroughly taped down every corner, coating any piece she could possibly carefully pull up. I can’t wait to see how long it will take her to become fed up and just rip it open. I kneel down and slide the gift under my bed. The party and her birthday may be tomorrow, but I’ve gotten into a little tradition of hiding her gift and making her look for it. I’ll hide it properly tomorrow morning before she wakes up.

Closing my door behind me, I wander down the hall for a last minute check on everything. The cake is stored in the back of the fridge, hidden behind two jars of pickled beets, something I know she’ll stay away from. I’m quite proud of the cake, actually. It’s a caramel cake layered in coconut flavored icing, and topped with salted pecans and candied pineapple pieces. I think it’s going to be pretty good.

Party hats, napkins, plates, two bottles of sparkling lemonade and a bottle of root beer, little ‘thank you’ bags, balloons, and the scavenger hunt maps are all ready and accounted for. A scavenger hunt was a cool idea. Some may think it a little childish, considering that she’s twelve now, but we’ve made it pretty complex for them and it’s around the entire park, so it should be fun. I bought all the supplies to make a big breakfast in the morning and then she and I are going to pick a movie and sit and share a tub of ice cream before the party starts at two tomorrow.

I glance at the clock. Nine. Time to say goodnight to her and make sure she goes to bed so that she’s not tired in the morning. I tap softly on her door before pushing it open. “Katie?” I peer around the room, but don’t see her. Then I hear some shuffling and a sniff, suppressed sob. I bend around the wardrobe, find her tucked between it and the bed. Her eyes are puffy and her nose is red. “Katie, honey, what’s wrong?”

“She’s not coming.” Katie doesn’t need to specify, I know who she’s talking about. “Is she?”

I sigh and shake my head. “No. She’s not.”

Katie nods, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. “She never comes,” she mutters. I sit down on the floor, my back against the bed.

“Come here,” I request, pull her into my lap and hug her when she moves within reach. “You know that Roxanne is a complicated person…” I trail off, not really sure how to word it.

“She isn't coming back is she? Ever. You said she had to go away for a while, but a while is forever isn't it?” Katie demands. I hesitate, reluctant to tell her. My silence gives her the answer. Her shoulders slump and she sniffs, wiping at her nose. “She doesn’t love me. Doesn’t want me.”

“Honey, I-”

“Why do you?” Katie demands, spinning to look me in the eye. “She’s my mother, but she doesn’t love me or take care of me or want me around. Why do you bother? I’m not your kid, I’ve never been. So why do you hug me, make me breakfast, buy my things, and throw me parties? Why do you put up with me when my own mother won't?”

I squeeze her against me tightly, feel my own chest tighten. “I want you to listen to me very carefully. First of all, I do not ‘put up with you’, I love you and I love having you around. It’s true that we are not related in blood or anything like that and that I did not give birth to you, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’ll tell you why I hug you and feed you and throw you parties. Because I _love_ you and I cannot stress that enough. I love you Katie, that’s why.”

“But, why? I don’t understand. Why do you love me? You don’t have to.”

“Exactly,” I say. “I don’t have to love you. I choose to. And that in itself is better than anything, do you know why?”

Katie shakes her head, glances up at me expectantly.

I stroke her hair. “I don’t have any siblings, but if I did, I would have to love them, even if I didn’t particularly like them, because they’d be my family, my flesh and blood. It would be my responsibility to love and support them. But I don’t have to love or support you, that isn’t a responsibility, it’s a choice. You are my family, but not because you have to be, but because I choose to have you as my daughter, just as I hope that you choose to be here too. You and I are family, Katie, that’s never going to change. You are the family I made for myself. The family I _choose_ to love. You understand?”

She nods, even though her tears still run down her cheeks in steady tracts. She warps her arms around my and sobs into my shoulder. “I love you too Sophie. I'm sorry.”

I rub her back and hush her. “Don’t be sorry for being sad or for missing her; don’t you ever be sorry for something like that.”

 

 **I** groan softly and lift my head from the edge of the bed, a thin trail of saliva running down my chin. I wipe it away as I sit up and glance around, still groggy. I’m still sitting on the floor against the bed. Katie is passed out in my lap. Her legs stretched out over the floor, her cheek pressed against my knee. One of her hands is draped over my wrist and it tightens in her sleep as I move. I glance over at her bedside clock. Five thirty in the morning. One hour before I planned to get up and start making her breakfast. I gently shake her shoulder. “Katie,” I whisper her name softly as I stand and pull her to her feet.

“Uh?” she groans incoherently.

“Come on, sweetie, time to get into your bed,” I say. I pull her covers back and sit her down on the bed. “Lie down, now.” She does, her face hitting the pillow and her eyes closing again. I pull the blanket back up to cover her and she snuggles down into them.

“I love you, mommy,” the words ghost out in her still mostly asleep state of mind and I feel my heart clench even as joy blooms inside of me. I bend down and kiss her forehead.

“I love you too,” I say.  I click her light off and ease her door closed as I leave and begin my preparations.

 

 **The** room is filled with laughter as everyone settles in on the floor for presents. Katie sits in the middle, a party hat sitting crookedly on her head. Her two best friends sit next to her, Hannah on the left and Abby on the right. Lewis’s niece and nephew, Lily and Connor, sit side by side, cross-legged on the floor, and then there’s Danny, a seven-year-old boy that Katie has been babysitting for two years now. His mother works down in the entrance booth at the front gate and Katie often plays with Danny in the summers while his mother works. She wanted him to come today.

The scavenger hunt was a big hit, there were two teams of three and the first one’s finished got a prize. Katie, Abby, and Danny had beaten the other team by about thirty seconds. I glance at Abby now. She’s a sweet girl, I couldn’t ask for better best friends for Katie than her and Hannah, but I know that her inability to hear is tough for her and she often struggles to enjoy herself as fully as the other girls do. There’s a bright smile on her face today though and she seems very happy as she pushes her present towards Katie.

Katie takes her time opening it, carefully tugging each corner free to open the present. Katie lifts a picture frame from the wrappings. The sandy brown wood of the frame is decorated with small seashells and dolphin beads. The picture inside is of Katie, Hannah, and Abby laughing together, though I’m not certain of where the picture was taken. Katie smiles as her stares at the picture, and then hugs it to her chest. “Thank you, Abby,” she says, turning to her friend and repeating the phrase in sign language. “It’s beautiful.”

Abby smiles and nods her head.

“Do ours next,” Lily exclaims, pushing a long box over to Katie.

Again, Katie takes her time opening the gift. She removes the wrapping paper to discover the box for a camera stand. “Cool, thanks guys,” she states, smiling up at them. “I’ve been wanting one of these.”

“Looks like the right size too,” I comment. “To fit your camera. Move it off to the side so that it doesn’t get broken.”

She lifts the box and places it against the wall, and then sets the picture frame down on top of it. Danny gives her a necklace of shells, beads, and colored macaroni, which she drapes over her neck and wears happily. Hannah gives her a friendship charm bracelet and a conch shell.

“For your collection,” she states, pointing to the shell. I let them laugh and talk about the gifts for a few moments before I stand up and join them on the floor. I hand Katie a folded piece of paper. The clue to the final part of her scavenger hunt. She smiles at me and flips it open, her eyes scanning the page. Then she stands up and hurries away.

“Bring it back before you open it,” I call. “And whatever you do, don’t shake it.”

About two minutes later, she returns cradling the box in her arms. She kneels down and begins to struggle with the tape. “You are evil,” she states, fixing me with a false glare. I chuckle.

“Just rip it. Hurry up already, your friends are waiting.”

She finally does simply tear the wrapping off the little brown box. It’s an old shipment box for a watch that I’ve used to hold her gift. She pulls up the flap of the box and pulls out the object wrapped in tissue paper. Gently removing the white paper, she holds up the gift. The glass dolphin shines in the light, the purple stained glass causing purple dots to dance on the wall. The dolphin is in a leaping position and the area where the underbelly should be is open and hollow. “Wow,” Katie gasps. “It’s so pretty.”

“Do you know what it is?” I ask her.

She shakes her head and I laugh a little.

“It’s for your camera. The open part is so it will attach to your flash. See the little purple square piece under the chin? That pulls down over the flash if you want and it will stain the images with a purple hue. I was told that the purple works best for night skies and very late sunsets. It’s an interchangeable piece and the other available colors are in the box. You’ll have to test them to see what types of pictures work best with each color and you don’t have to stain pictures if the dolphin is on your camera, the piece pulls up and down easily. But be careful with it, it is glass and it will break,” I warn. Katie nods eagerly.

“Thank you Sophie, this is so cool.”

She stands up and runs over to hug me. I hug her back and then instruct her to put it away somewhere safe for now. As she runs off, I get the rest of the crew together at the table for cake.

 

 **“So** how come you wanted me to come out here?” Katie asks as she sits down next to me on the stairs of the staff apartment’s entrance. Night has fallen and she’s dressed her pajamas.

“I have a surprise for you, come on.” I lead her away from the staff center and along one of the pathways.

“I don’t understand,” Katie says as she follows me along the path. “You already gave me my birthday gift.”

“This is just a little something extra,” I reply. I lead her out to the grassy picnic area of the park. A small children’s park and a few picnic tables are in the area, along with some vendors, all closed now. In the middle, I’ve laid out an old comforter and a box of chocolate pecan cookies, her favorite. Set up in the grass beside the blanket is a telescope. I know that Katie used to love stargazing with her father on clear weekend nights and after last night, I figured it might be a nice way to end her birthday. I sit down on the corner of the blanket and cross my legs, patting the spot beside me. “Well? Are you coming or are you just going to stand there?” I tease. A huge smile spreads across her face and seconds later I find myself in a death grip of a hug.

“Thank you, Sophie,” she murmurs.

“You're welcome. Now come on, the stars are supposed to be exceptionally bright tonight, take a look.”

Katie shifts over to peer into the telescope. “Wow.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Lewis**

“You got him, right?” I inquire of my assistant, a young intern named Jessica. She nods and tightens her grip. One arm is holding down the head of a large, male harbor seal, the hand keeping a firm grip on his upper jaw, the other hand holding his lower, to keep his mouth propped open. I have my arm, almost up to the shoulder, down his throat as I search for whatever is choking him. I once again find myself thankful at a seal’s lack of a gag reflex, meaning I won’t be barfed on anytime soon.

Finally, my hand closes around the culprit, and I slowly drag it up and out of the seal’s mouth. Covered in saliva, is a crushed soda can, the red and silver paint shiny and chipped. I dump the can into a waste bin and shake my head. This is one of the many problems with leaving trash on the beaches. Many animals like gulls, seals, and turtles, mistake trash for food and then we have the problem of them choking or getting sick like this poor seal.

I check the seal’s breathing to ensure there isn’t more blockage, but he seems much better now. “Alright, Jessica, you can let him go now. We’ll keep him for the rest of the day just to be sure. I’m going to get cleaned up a bit and then write up the rescue report. Get him to a tank and get him some fish, all right? That should make him happy,” I state. I don’t wait for her response as I leave my office and head for the bathrooms.

After getting cleaned up and changing my shirt, I return to my, now empty office to write the report. As I fall into my office chair, my eyes wander the room absently. Not much in it other than my observation table, desk, supply cupboards, the quarantine tank in the corner, and a few scattered marine medical posters. The only real personalization are the two photo frames on my desk. One contains a photo of Sophie and Katie; I’d taken it the day Katie had gotten her dive certification. Sophie had suited up and taken her on a little dive through the shark tank to celebrate. I’d surprised them with the camera when they got out. Sophie was mockingly furious, she’d gotten her hair knotted around the outside of her regulator hose and was struggling with it, a goofy look on her face, when I’d taken the picture and refused to delete it. Katie had laughed and teased Sophie over it for a few minutes.

The other photo is a group picture from high school. Michael and I were best friends back then. In the photo, Sophie is giving Michael a playful shove, her attempt to rescue me from his headlock. Michael’s sister, Andy, was there too, with her arms wrapped around his neck, grin a mile long as she laughed in his ear. My gaze lingers on Sophie’s happy face. High school was rough for her; it was when her life took a horrid plunge, so it’s nice to have a moment captured where she was truly happy and carefree. I never told her about the crush I had on her, still have on her, by the time I’d worked up the courage, those tragic events stood in the way. At the time, she’d needed a friend, not a lovesick schoolboy hoping for a chance. She’d never shown any interest after that. She’d dated a few times, but never anything serious, not after that stupid accident.

Her parents had taken her to Turkey for a week as part of a month long culture vacation. It was the last stop after Greece, Italy, and Rome. Sophie had been ecstatic about the trip prior to leaving, since it was her first time on a plane. She’d promised us pictures and email updates whenever possible. She’d stayed true to that, sending an email at each of the previous three location. But we heard nothing of Turkey. Three days after she was due to return and we still hadn’t heard from her, she didn’t come to school. Afterwards, we found out that there had been a bad earthquake in the area where they were staying. People were being shipped out of the country for medical attention, and one of my best friends was one of those people. She’d spent almost three weeks recovering in the hospital, devastated at the fact that her parents wouldn’t come home. At the time of the quake, they’d all been their room at the hotel, a bungalow style cabin near the pools. It had collapsed on top of them and killed Steve and Maria, and left Sophie pinned under the rubble, a wooden shaft puncturing through her abdomen. She has a nasty scar from it, but that accident had damaged her internally. I don’t know all the details, but something was severed or damaged beyond repair and she was told that she would never be able to conceive a child. Sophie had dropped her child development course the first day back to school. Our friendship had grown stronger, but she’d expressed to people that she wasn’t interested in a long term relationship; she believed that it would end badly since she couldn’t bring a child into the picture and adoption is a long process. At the time I had been caught both between the need to comfort her and the uncertainty of whether or not I could be okay with not being a father down the line; because I didn’t want a short term relationship as that may break apart our friendship too, that I never pushed her or expressed my feelings. Something I truly regret now. I’ve been thinking more about it now too, since she lost Katie, it makes me wonder if I should try to be someone significant in her life so she doesn’t feel so alone, yet I hesitate and wonder whether or not it’s too soon to approach her. Again I find myself more willing to play the friend card than I am to work up the courage to talk to her.

I drum my fingers on the desk as I finish off my report. Life has a way of slipping past you.

I jump out of my daze when the phone rings. I frown, not expecting a call, since rescues are called in to the center and I’ve no external patients. Still, I pick up the receiver and bring it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Lewis,” Olivia’s voice echoes slightly through the phone as she speaks. “I need to talk to you. Is this a bad time?”

“No, it’s fine. Is something wrong? It can’t be later than four in the morning over there.”

A yawn sounds. “Yes, well, I needed to make sure you would be up, and in your office; you really ought to get a cell, Lewis, it would make it easier to get a hold of you.”

“I’ll think about it,” I reply. “Now what’s this about?”

“We need to talk, there’s a lot I have to tell you and you’re not going to believe a word of it right away, but I need you to bear with me alright?”

“Alright…” I trail off, feeling a little concerned and suspicious.

There’s a long moment of silence before, “Katie didn’t die.”

I feel my muscles tense, feeling cold anger flare in my heart. “Olivia if this is meant as some sort of cruel joke, I assure you it isn't funny.”

“Would I joke about something like that?” She retorts. “I told you it would be hard to swallow, but she’s alive. I can prove it to you; I'm sending you an email now, are you near your computer?”

“Yes,” I reply as I boot up the system and log onto my email. Seconds later an email from Olivia pops up.

“Just open the file and let me know when you’re watching.”

I move my mouse and click on the attached video. “It’s open.”

“Alright, you see the first image?”

“Yes, it’s some girl in a mermaid costume,” I reply, squinting at the image of a girl swimming in a purple tail.

“Not a costume,” Olivia replies. “This is real, an exhibit in Oregon that recently opened up. You can google it if you don’t believe me. The second slide is a close up of that mermaid and Katie.”

“Yes, I see it. Okay, so they have a few similarities, that doesn’t make this creature her.”

“Just watch the rendering Dustin did up. He removed the background, the hair from both girls, and the mermaid’s freckles.” I fall silent and watch, feel anger and doubt fade into shock and disbelief. “They’re identical. And before you say that it’s rare, but not unheard of for two people around the same age to look exactly alike, you should know that this exhibit opened up only two months ago, and that is more than simply a rare coincidence.”

“If this is true…” I feel anger begin to burn inside me. “What did they do to her, and why? Katie never would have agreed to this, especially not if it meant faking her death to Sophie. She would know how much that would tear Soph apart.”

“This wasn’t willing, Lewis, it can’t have been. This mermaid thing has intense backstories for both girls. But Katie is there, I'm certain of it. Which means she was likely kidnapped or blackmailed. Either way, they took her and hid her under a haircut, some dye, and tattooed freckles.”

“And the tail? It’s just a really great costume, right? Intricate, hard to get off without help, which is why she hasn’t run, right?”

“Lewis, I don’t know how, but that tail is real, Katie spends little time above water now. There are hundreds of photos and videos, some of which are ten to fifteen minutes long. She doesn’t surface once in them.”

I continue to stare at the images. “How on earth?”

“I have no idea,” Olivia admits.

I swallow, hard, and set my jaw. “So what’s the plan?”

“We’re going to get her out. You can have no involvement, they’ll look for people connected to Sophie first when we break her out. It will be a few months until things die down a bit, but the second we can, both of them will be sent to you. It’s likely that the other child is in the same boat as Katie and likely isn’t from the US. I’ll leave that task up to you for after. Lewis,” Olivia’s voice turns stern. “Don’t tell Sophie.”

“What? Why?” I demand. “She deserves to know about this.”

“I know,” Olivia takes on a solemn tone. “But Lewis, it will be hard to convince her of this and even harder to convince her to stay out of it. Months of knowing, being forced to wait… no one deserves that. Better to keep her in the dark until Katie is home safely.”

I long to argue, even though I can see the sense in her words. Finally, after a long moment, I reluctantly agree. Olivia doesn’t take up any more time, simply warning me not to phone her so that there’s less of a chance of this getting traced to us. She also advises me to clear her email from my history as well as my contacts and that she’d get in touch only if absolutely necessary. I wish her good luck and hang up the phone. I lean my cheek against a fist and sigh. Katie’s alive and will hopefully be home soon. It’s a miracle in itself even if it means that we were deceived and she’s being held against her will. I find myself hoping desperately that she’s all right where she is.

I'm startled from my thoughts when the door to my office bangs open. Sophie is standing in the doorway, her fiery red hair pulled of her face and into a messy bun. She waves a hand at me. “You need to get to the van, the rescue team is gathering there. It’s bad.”

I’m up and grabbing my to-go medical bag before she’s finished speaking. I hurry down the empty paths of the marine park. We’re closed today for tank repairs, so it feels vacant and silent, my footsteps seeming to echo against the concrete. Sophie stays hot on my heels and I cast her a questioning look. She returns it with a stern gaze.

“I want to help. That was the point of opening this place way back, and I haven’t been on a rescue team in a while, so I’m coming with you,” her statement comes across as a challenge, daring me to argue with her.

I smile and shake my head. “We’re always glad to have you, you know that. So, what’s the deal with the case?”

“Definitely a beaching, but it sounds like a badly injured creature. I’m guessing a manatee.”

“Guessing?” I raise an eyebrow. Sophie always knows; she’s the first to get the report.

She nods. “Yeah guessing. It’s the closest thing I can think of that makes sense. The people that called in are reporting the stranding to be a mermaid.”


	21. A Twilight Meeting

**Olivia**

“You’re sure about this contact of yours?” Dustin asks. I nod, tap my foot a little impatiently. Fashionably late, as usual so I shouldn’t be surprised; but being on edge has frayed my nerves and pushed me to frustration.

“She’s the last piece of the plan,” I reply. “If anyone can break into a high security facility, it’s her. If she shows up,” I add.

“You trust her?”

“Yes. She’s can come off as a little sketchy, edgy, and she’ll probably rub you the wrong way, but Lukshia is a very dependable person, and quite friendly once you get to know her. I wouldn’t want anyone else leading this.”

Dustin nods and shifts his weight, his arms crossing comfortably over his chest as he leans against the back, outer wall of the marine park. His thin, black glasses glint in the dying light. He only wears them for reading documents in his office, but he’s likely forgotten that they’re still sitting, slightly crookedly, on the bridge of his nose. Years of fixing my own crooked glasses, which I wear on a more permanent basis, lead me to reach out and adjust his without thinking about it. The motion shocks Dustin and he pulls back a little. “I forgot I still had these on,” he comments almost predictably as he reaches up to pull them off his face, folding the arms and sliding one into the collar of his shirt to hold them there. Then he checks his watch. “What time did you say we were meeting her?”

“Eight thirty,” I reply. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine,” Dustin sighs.

“Late as usual,” I comment, my lips pursing with displeasure. “How the woman keeps clients I will never know.” No sooner than I finish speaking, a small, sleek black car crawls up the dirt road that leads up from the harbor. It’s a tiny thing, with faintly tinted windows, but otherwise doesn’t seem as though it would draw attention or look suspicious in a neighborhood. I suppose that’s the point. It pulls to a stop about twenty feet in front of us and a woman climbs from it. Thick, wild black curls fall over her shoulder in a loose side ponytail. Lukshia is wearing a black tank top covered by a long, open black coat that billows out as she walks towards us, with sleeves that cut off at the elbow. Brown leggings cloak her legs, and her feet are clad in her signature dark brown riding boots. Her darker, earthy toned skin outlines the sinuous muscles of her arms and legs; revealing more strength than one would think after taking in her more petit frame. I know from experience that she’s not someone you provoke.

Lukshia closes the distance between us in a few seconds, her hazel eyes bright with mischief, a hidden, daring challenge, yet soft with warm happiness at the same time. She wraps me in a powerful hug. “It’s good to see you, Olivia,” she greets.

I hug her back and then pull away to meet her gaze. “It’s nice to see you too; would be nicer to have seen you at eight thirty,” I comment.

Her eyes move into an exaggerated roll. “I’m a little late, come off it. I’m always on time when I need to be.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” I retort. “Now, I want you to meet Dustin; he runs the marine park.”

Dustin steps forward and offers Lukshia his hand, which is ignored. “Mrs. Blake,” Dustin greets, his tone pleasant. “Olivia has spoken very highly of you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” A moment of silence stretches between us as Lukshia studies Dustin with a monotone expression. Dustin lets his arm fall awkwardly back to his side.

“Mm,” Lukshia turns her attention back to me. “I was a little surprised at the reason you contacted me; you’ve never shown much interest in my professions before.”

“I have need of them now,” I admit.

“Well, shall we go inside to a place more private to discuss why?”

“Of course,” Dustin steps in. “Let’s go inside. We can talk in my office.” He gestures to the open gate behind us. Dustin leads the way down the barren paths and empty halls of the marine park. He closes the office door behind us. I move to sit down on a spare chair near the desk. Dustin claims his seat and Lukshia leans against the desk, ignoring the chair that was put out for her.

“So, I first have to ask; how grey area is this request of yours?” Lukshia directs the question at me. “You wouldn’t have called me a demanded a late night meeting if this was legal. Which isn’t a problem, but I need to know what I’m getting into.”

I hesitate. “I don’t think grey area can be applied. We’re going to be committing a crime; a serious one.”

Lukshia nods. “This isn’t really your area, Olivia, but I’ll bite. What are you up to?”

I offer her a print off picture of Katie. She glances at it. “Her name is Katherine Waters,” I start.

“You need me to find her?”

“No. Katie is Australian and her funeral was held roughly four months ago.”

“So, you want me to find a killer?”

“We don’t think she’s dead,” I correct.

Lukshia raises an eyebrow. “Really? That’s not something I come across often. Fill me in.”

“I think the death was staged and that she was kidnapped. Brought here.”

“But you don’t need me to find her?” Lukshia clarifies. “And I’m not seeing the illegal part yet.”

Dustin removes a picture from a folder and slides it over. “We also have a rendering that proves it, but can you see any similarity?”

Narrowed hazel eyes study the image intently for a few moments before Lukshia nods. “Yes, definitely. Not many people would know, and it’s difficult to tell from a picture, but the freckles are fake, tattooed on probably. They’re too similar nearly symmetrical, yet all over the place. Freckles come in different shapes, sizes, and colors, but one thing remains consistent. Pattern. There is always some form of pattern with them. These are far too random and even. And her hair’s been dyed; you can notice a few lighter brown strands around her ears. I would confidently say that there is a strong chance that this is the same girl, but disguised,” Lukshia agrees.

“Well, the second image is of a mermaid in the Oregon Marine Research Facility. Have you heard anything about the attraction?” Dustin asks.

“I’ve seen it. And I have no doubt that those aren’t costumes. Which begs a question. If Miss Katherine Waters is human, how does she have a tail now?”

I shrug. “No idea. I don’t know how they did it, but I know for certain that it wasn’t done willingly. I’ve met Katie. She’s a very friendly girl with strong family ties. She and her adoptive mother are practically inseparable. She would never put Sophie through the hell of having to bury her daughter like this. She was taken by force. And we need to get her out.”

Lukshia grins. “Break into a heavily guarded government facility and smuggle out a member of a main attraction-”

“Actually we want to break both of them out. With Katie being one, odds are that the younger one is also a girl stolen away from her family and I don’t want to leave her there,” I interrupt.

“Even better.”

“So, you’ll help us?” I ask.

Lukshia nods. “Of course. Olivia, you could have told me you wanted to assassinate the president and I would help you. I would try to talk you out of it, but I would still help you. You should know that. At least this will be a good cause and a hell of a lot more fun. I’ve been wanting to screw with some the secret government projects for a while now anyways. So what’s your plan?”

“Well…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder to anyone interested, I run a discord server for this story and others. We chat, post art, voice call, and pretty well just goof around and have fun. We love having new faces around, so please feel more than free to come say hello: https://discord.gg/qeTrGEY 
> 
> It's also a good way to get updates on stuff I'm working on. I look forward to meeting new people, hope to see you there.


	22. Rescue

**Sophie**

I hurry after the others across the beach, hot sand splashing up into my sandals, burning against my toes like coals. Two of the rescue crew members are carrying a dolphin stretcher between them, while the other two hurry to do crowd control. Bill, our driver, is backing the van up towards where we need to work.

I'm normally pretty braced, used to the heart wrenching things a rescue can bring, but when I catch sight of our ocean victim, my heart stops. The reports were right. The creature in the surf couldn’t possibly be described as anything but a mermaid. As we approach, I take in the scene with a heavy heart. Limp and most likely unconscious, the humanoid girl’s body sways slightly as the waves beat against her back, pushing her into the sand, then pulling her back and doing it again. The sand and frothy brine around her no longer their proper colors, but a deep red. Time seems to slow as I take in her appearance. Long, sunny blonde hair pools midway down her ribcage, tanned skin covering her torso. Her features, slightly angular but still human looking, end at her hips where a long muscular limb takes over her lower half. Scales a shade darker than sand coat the tail, which ends in a pair of split fins*, one a vivid, sunset magenta, the other an aqua turquoise. The colors line up with the short bangs that frame her jaw. Jutting from her hips, are two massive, wing-like fins that are roughly the size of the length of her torso and almost as wide. They’re the same colors as her bangs and tailfins, but in a reversed order, giving her an almost patterned look. Her eyes are closed, leaving their color a mystery, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see those same magenta and turquoise shades.

I take a moment to observe her injuries. A lopsided and caved in hip is easy to identify as broken, possibly shattered given its crushed appearance. No bone has punctured through, but a massive hole in her abdomen is the clear source of the bleeding. Bruised and scraped; it doesn’t seem like there are any other visible severe injuries. Although, judging by her shaky, irregular, and downright odd breathing, I’ll guess at least one broken rib. I narrow my eyes and watch the rise and fall of her chest. Her breathing seems to be growing fainter by the second and it spurs me into motion as I realize that mere minutes could define life or death for her. I crouch down in the sand beside Lewis.

“How can I help?” I ask.

Lewis doesn’t look up as he answers. “Can you scoop away as much sand as possible in ten seconds from around the injured hip? We move in the wrong way and splinters of bone could stab internal organs so I want to get the stretcher under her if possible.”

I nod and comply with his request, focusing my mind on the rhythmic task of scraping sand away so I don’t have to think about how the sand isn’t soaked with water, but blood, or about the poor girl it’s coming from.

Once I’ve got a decent ditch in the sand, I’m lightly shoved out of the way as the woman from the rescue team takes over, easing the stretcher underneath the girl. She’s then carefully pulled the rest of the way on and the stretcher is lifted and placed on the floor of the back of the van.

“Alright, John, go help with crowd control, we’ll send the van back for you, but I need space to work. Sierra, go up front with Bill will you? Tell him to step on it on the way back,” Lewis orders, watching as the employees scurry off. “Soph, give me a hand here in the back?”

“Of course,” I agree, climbing in after him. “What do you need?” I pull the van doors shut and Lewis bangs a fist against the side of the van, an indicator that we’re good to go. I brace myself against the side as the vehicle lurches into motion and takes off down the road.

“We need to try and stanch the bleeding,” Lewis states. “That’s first priority. There’s no way of giving a blood transfusion to this… girl. If she loses too much, that’s it. Take some of those towels and try to keep pressure as much pressure on the wound as possible.”

“What about the bone?” I ask as I pull a pile off towels down off the bolted shelves. Tight fabric bands are strung between the poles to keep the contents from falling during sharp turns or sudden stops. “Weren’t you worried that it could puncture something if we move it?”

“We don’t have a choice but to take that risk. Just push down and try not to shift her hip at all.”

I nod and fold two of the towels over the room, and then I press them down as hard as I can. A tortured scream echoes through the van. The mermaid tenses up, her tail thrashing beneath me as I strain to hold her down. “Lewis!”

“I know, just keep the pressure on, no matter what,” Lewis replies as he sits on the tail, pinning it beneath him. “Man, this thing’s strong.”

I apply another towel as the first two begin to soak through. The girl continues to struggle beneath us and I know it’s causing blood to flow faster. “She needs to settle down. Can we give her a sedative?”

“I don’t know, her biology may reject it and that’s the last thing that she needs. Just keep pressure, we’ll be at the park soon and I’ll take over,” Lewis replies. He removes a pressure band from its stand and slides it up the girl’s arm, watching it inflate and taking note of the results. I press down on the mermaid’s abdomen once more. Another pained shriek leaves her and suddenly a pair of ice blue eyes are snapping open and fixing on me. The irises are laced with pure agony, but there is also strong flashes of anger and fear. She twists and groans, one wing-like hip fin snapping up and catching me across the chin.

“No,” she whimpers. “Get away, no!” I'm not given a chance to register my shock at her perfect English before she lashes out at me with a clenched fist. She hisses, revealing wicked long fangs. I recoil, narrowly dodge her punch, and watch as her eyes roll back and she slumps back, falling limp once more. I relax in time to see Lewis remove a needle from the girl’s arm.

“I didn’t want to use these in case her body reacted badly, but the more she moves, the faster she bleeds out. She would have been in trouble if she kept thrashing about like that, and she could have hurt you. I just hope that the sedative will work okay,” Lewis explains in an almost guilty voice.

“Lewis, it’s okay. This is going to be a difficult case and the stakes are high… However, I have to ask,” I hesitate before continuing, “are you qualified to handle this? Do you have the experience or equipment?”

“No,” Lewis admits. “This is way beyond me. This is the extreme; I'm in no way qualified or prepared to handle this.” He falls silent for a moment, before his eyes light up. “But I know who is. Look, I have to make a call to a colleague, just keep doing what you're doing, alright?”

“Okay.”

 

***

 

I pace outside the door to the rescue treatment room, pause to glance at my watch, then resume my pacing. It’s been over two hours since Lewis disappeared inside with the mermaid, an hour and a half since his colleague arrived and disappeared as well, and I’ve been left here to pace and worry. This case has struck me pretty hard, probably because the girl looks to be around Katie’s age. I can’t stop replaying the look in her eyes, the raw agony, the fear… did my daughter see it coming? Did she feel any pain? I slump down onto one of the benches in the hall, rest my arms on my legs and bow my head. I certainly hope not. I hope it was quick, painless, and happened so fast that she didn’t even know it was happening. I hope that more than anything for her. Just as I hope that this girl pulls through, and that if she doesn’t, that she at least goes while unconscious; that she’s asleep and doesn’t continue to feel the horrid pain that’s probably plaguing her body right now.

The way she looked at me, with terror; as though she thought I would make the pain worse. Her voice, cracked with agony and fear, her desperate attempts to get away, even though it probably hurt like hell to try. It makes me want to help her even more, yet I'm stuck out here in the hall, waiting. I just want to know how Lewis is doing.

As if my thoughts summon him, the latch clicks and the door swings open, revealing Lewis and his friend. I take a moment to observe this man. Black hair peppered with grey, a short, goatee style beard, and dark brown eyes define his features. He towers over Lewis by at least six inches. The man’s Border collie, who had been tied to the leg of one of the benches, jumps up and begins to bark and whine, its tail lashing eagerly. The man walks over and greets the animal, bending down to pat the head of the black and white dog. I turn to look at Lewis. “Well?” I ask.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Well, it was hard and we nearly lost her twice, but she’s stable now and I think she’ll pull through,” he answers. I allow the tension to leave my shoulders as I slump with relief.

“Good. That’s good, then. Is she awake?”

“No, probably a good thing too, since it would have made our jobs a lot harder if she freaked out again. Look, Soph, I have to fill out a report and Carlos and I are going to get cleaned up and then go for something to eat. There’s a camera in the room and I’ll leave one of the interns monitoring the machines.”

“Don’t bother. Someone should be there to explain things when she wakes up or she may panic even more. I'll sit with her… Maybe record her as a manatee in the files. I don’t know if it should get out that we’ve got a mermaid here. We’d have the press, every nature rights group in the country, and quite possibly the government knocking on our doorstep demanding to see her. I just want to rescue and release, same as always,” I state firmly.

Lewis nods in agreement. “I was thinking the same thing. Don’t worry, Carlos has agreed to keep it on the down low.”

“Who is he anyways?” I ask. “And what’s with the dog?”

“Dr. Carlos Seaton. Remember when I started in the medical department before I dropped out and decided to become a vet instead? Well Carlos was in the medical program with me. He’s a free-lance surgeon and GI specialist. He makes house calls to outpatients and lends a hand to short-handed hospitals. He mostly offers his services to countries around the world that have suffered natural disasters. We’ve kept in touch and since he lives in Queensland, I gave him a call. Luckily he was home and agreed to help. The dog’s name is Chopstick, and he takes the collie everywhere. It’s trained as a therapy dog, so it helps him when he’s working, mostly with children and elderly, as a comforting companion. The dog would probably just scare our fishy friend in there, but Chopstick never leaves his side, so I said it was okay to bring him. You don’t mind do you?”

“Of course not, I was just curious. Look, go get something to eat with your friend and take the day off. If you’re needed, I’ll give you a call.”

Lewis nods. “Alright, thanks. But before you go sit in there all night, like I know you're going to, why don’t you go wash up and maybe get a clean shirt on,” he suggests, tugging on one of my sleeves.

“Huh?” I glance down and see the dried blood coating my hands and sleeves from when I was applying pressure to the wound. I forgot it was still there. “Oh.”

“Yeah. That might freak her out a bit.”

“It’s okay, I have a tank top on underneath so I’ll just wash up in the sink in there,” I state. “Thank Dr. Seaton for me.”

“I will. Oh, and Sophie?”

“Hmm?”

“Be careful. With how she reacted, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried lashing out again.”

“Don’t worry, I'll be fine,” I reply, before slipping past him and into the treatment room. I shed my long sleeved shirt and let it fall to the floor, smoothing out my tank top down as I do. The sink is on the wall beside the door, so I run the water and scrub at my arms until the blood has run down the drain.

Shaking water droplets from my hands, I pull a chair up to the recovery bed in the middle of the room. The collapsible bed is one of a few that we have for human patients. Since we work as part of a marine rescue team, it is required that we be on call as part of the search and rescue, and have an onsite care unit for sea accidents. Lewis must have brought it out and set it up for the mermaid since it will be easier to keep her immobilized, and allow her to be relatively comfortable. I sit down in the chair and take a moment to glance over her. A thick elastic brace belt is wrapped around her chest, just below the last row of scales on her chest, confirming my suspicions about broken ribs. Another, larger brace hugs her hips, thick bandages wrapping her abdomen disappearing beneath it. Her skin has paled to an ashen grey and her breathing is shallow and shaky, but Lewis is right, she seems to be relatively stable.

Still, I can’t help but notice the tension in her face, indicators of pain even in her unconscious state. An I.V. tube runs from a bag of clear liquid, down into her left hand, which has been tucked into a thick blue mitt, the tube taped along her arm to prevent her from tugging it out. Her free hand is dipping out between the crib-like rails of the bed; the ones that will stop her from falling off the bed, her fingers curled in slightly. I gently ease her arm back through to rest on the mattress, before pushing one of her colorful bangs off her face. I have a brief moment of curiosity on how she managed to dye them out in the ocean. Perhaps it is a natural streak, unique to her biology.

There’s a soft peppering of faint freckles across the top of her cheeks, lining the underside of her eyes, and dotting the bridge of her nose. She’s very pretty, despite all the cuts and bruises littering her arms, face, and torso.

“What did you get yourself into, sweetheart?” I murmur. Of course, I know what happened. Details were collected from a fisherman in the harbor. He had been the one to call in a report, one that was seconded when she washed ashore. The chain on his anchor was damaged, he had been coming in for repairs when it snapped and dropped into the water. When he hauled the anchor back up by the remaining length of chain, he’d seen the blood billowing up and assumed he’d hit a dolphin.

Sympathy swells in me. _Poor girl. I can't imagine being crushed beneath something like that._ It was the tide that had pulled her to shore. _It’s a lucky thing we found her in time._

A soft groan echoes through my thoughts, the pained gasp pulling me from them entirely. Before I can react as I turn to look at the girl, I find something vivid and sharp flashing into my vision. It’s a spiny fin with golden shimmering spines with alternating magenta and turquoise webbing laced between them and the fin appears embedded into the mermaid’s arm. I’m certain I didn’t notice fins on her arms before, but now I find the knife-like spines pressed against my throat.


	23. A New Mer

    

    There is pain. Pure unending agony screaming through every fiber of my body. I want to scream, but I find myself unable to as I swim through a black sea, thick like oil as it threatens to swallow me forever.

    My body feels heavy as I slowly regain consciousness. The horrible pain I still feel devastates me as I realize it was not a nightmare. What happened? I grit my teeth and barely suppress a whimper as the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I turn to face the unknown person, instinct causing my arm to swing, spines outstretched to brush level against the person’s throat long before I’ve even processed what they look like. I find myself staring at a woman, her red hair pulled back off her face, her sea grass eyes widened slightly with shock. The strange coverings on her torso have me labeling her human, and with a slight glance around with my eyes, I discover myself to be in some sort of human structure. My eyebrows dip forward as I keep even contact with woman as I ponder whether to label her friend or foe. She maintains eye contact, but her eyes soften as her initial shock fades. She leans back, just out of striking range, and raises her hands in a would-be soothing gesture.

    “You really shouldn’t move around too much or get yourself worked up, you’ll only make your injuries worse,” she whispers, her voice as soft and soothing as her eyes. Still, I curl my lip and give her a good view of my fangs. I have learned to watch my back and not to be too trusting. It is how I have survived. The woman, whether she’s stupid, brave, or both, seems to completely ignore my warnings and instead places her hand on my arm. I tense up, but, while her grip remains gentle, it is also firm as she refuses to allow me to pull away from her. “Just listen a moment,” she requests. “My name is Sophie and I promise you that no one here is going to hurt you. You’ve been injured really badly and if you don’t remember what happened, I will explain everything, but I need you to try and relax because you should be resting and staying upright has got to hurt a lot right now.”

    She is right, admittedly. I am woozy and weak and tensing to stay upright is worsening the terrible pain sparking from my torso. I have been struggling to keep back tears of pain since I woke up.

    “I'm going to reach over you,” Sophie says. “And I'm going to push a button on the other side of the bed. It’s going to make a noise and it’s going to move a little, but it’ll help make you a little more comfortable so try not to freak out,” she keeps her voice soft and her movements slow as she explains and carries out her intents. I keep my focus on her motions constantly, but I do not lash out. Like she said it would, the bed makes a strange noise, then begins to move. It stops when she pulls away. “Lean back,” she requests as she pushes on my shoulder so that my back hits the soft material of the bed. Now raised so that I can sit up, but relax enough to relieve some of the pain. “Better?” She asks.

    I turn my head away from her, still keeping her in my peripheral vision, but refusing to acknowledge her question. Speaking to her requires trusting her, even just a little, and I am careful about who I give my trust to. Sophie lays a hand on my shoulder as she speaks. “It’s okay, you can talk to me; no one here is going to try to hurt you. Besides, you kind of already blew your chances of faking a lack of intelligence. You freaked out a little in the van while we were bringing you here for treatment, and you yelled at me a little.”

    I frown, my brows furrowing. I have no memory of this or of anything that led to me waking up here. Still, if she’s right, then I suppose I am only being rude and stubborn, so I relent with a sigh that I instantly regret. Breathing is incredibly painful and I make that the first thing I voice since I cannot remember what happened. “Hurts to breathe. Why?” I manage to spit out between grit teeth.

    Sophie’s expression softens. “You have some broken ribs,” she explains. “That’s what this is for.” She gently touches the strange, stiff fabric wrapped around my chest. “It’s a support belt to help keep everything in place while the bones heal. You have one for your hip as well.”

    “I broke that too?”

    “Yes. And you have a decent hole in your abdomen. It’s going to be a while before you can move from there,” she states.

    I sigh and take a moment to take in my surroundings and appearance a little better. The belt around my waist is bigger and tighter than the one wrapping my ribs. Thick strands of white kelp… or a human equivalent, coat my waist, disappearing below the belt.

    Then I notice my one hand, tucked inside some sort of material, a thin tube running into in and secured along my arm. I can feel it pricking me like a piece of broken glass. The tube runs up to a bag that is dripping liquid down inside me. Fear flares deep in my stomach at the unknown substance they are feeding into me. I move to grab the tube, tear it out, when Sophie catches my arm and holds it firmly.

    “Stop. You need to leave that alone. It isn’t anything bad. You have lost a lot of blood and will probably get very dehydrated pretty fast. It’s not water, but it is to keep you hydrated. Please just promise not to play with it,” she requests as she tugs my free hand away from the tube. “Why don’t you tell me your name and what you remember? I’ll try to fill in as many blanks as possible.”

    I eye the tube wearily before sighing and returning my gaze to her. “My name is Riley,” I say. “And I do not remember much of what happened. I was on the reef, and I will admit that I had let my guard down when perhaps I should not have. I was lounging about, put in a lazy mood by the warm waters. It has been a while since I have been this far south and it had an effect...” I trail off with a frown. “But I remember nothing after that. Perhaps I fell asleep and was attacked? What would do this damage? A bull shark perhaps? I doubt a salt-water crocodile since they would leave many punctures, not one hole and several broken bones… Maybe-”

    “It was an anchor,” Sophie cuts me off. “You were crushed beneath the anchor of a fishing trawler.”

    I feel the color bleed from my face as horror twists its way through me. “You are joking, right?”

    A toss of red hair is my response. “Sorry, but that’s what happened. The captain was bringing the boat in for repairs when the chain snapped. He pulled the anchor up and when he saw the blood, he phoned us.”

    I let my head hang, my bangs falling limply into my face. “Is it going to scar?”

    “Probably,” Sophie replies.

    I sigh. “Another one,” I sigh. “Another scar with a pathetic story. I will never live this one down.” I feel Sophie’s eyes wander over my torso and tail. I look too despite the fact that I am well aware of most, if not all, the scars that litter my body. The marred mark on my shoulder, a souvenir from a fight with a swordfish. The swordfish won. The fishing line white mark the only evidence of the time I slit my arm open while shark wrestling. The lacerations coating my shoulder blades from a run in with a box jellyfish. I have some nasty faded marks from when I was twelve; I was thrown from a current into a reef of fire coral. A patch of crushed in scales from being whipped by a giant stingray spine. A turtle bit me a year ago and the scar on my elbow is still pretty new. And of course, the most pathetic scar in my arsenal so far still embarrasses me to think about. I see Sophie notice it too, shiver as she runs her fingers over my left tail fin where a small chunk of fin is missing from the bottom.

    “What happened here?” she asks.

    I turn away, feel heat rise in my cheeks. “I, uh, was bitten by a dolphin when I was little,” I admit sheepishly.

    A hand flies to cover Sophie’s mouth, a barely contained snort leaving her noise as she very obviously tries to hide her amusement. “A dolphin?” she repeats. “I didn’t realize they were quite so vicious.”

    “It is not funny,” I protest. “I was like eight, nine tops, and an older cousin of mine had dared me to out-swim a spinner dolphin. There was a pod nearby so I dropped down, hoping to race with them, but… well I accidentally startled them and since they had calves; one retaliated.”

    Sophie nods her understanding. “Seems like you keep getting yourself into trouble,” she comments.

    “It is not like I go looking for it,” I retort. “It finds me.”

    Again, Sophie nods, her eyes narrowed yet unfocused as she clearly allows her mind to wander. I glance around the room again, note the creepily eerie posters of dolphin brain and seal innards that litter the walls, cringe at the strange devices and pointy looking tools left out on smooth rock surfaces. A few of them are stained with dried blood and I cannot help but wonder if it is mine.

    I lift a finger to point out the tools. “What are those?”

    “Huh?” Sophie twists to look in the direction I am indicating. “Oh, those are some of Lewis’s medical tools; he must have forgotten to put them away.”

    “He used them on me?”

    “Yes. But don’t worry, he wouldn’t do anything that would harm you, I promise. He’s a doctor.”

    “A doctor?” I repeat the alien word slowly. “What is that?”

    “Oh, um, well a doctor is like… like a healer,” she tries to supply. “His job is heal… does that make any sense?”

    “Yes,” I reply. “I just did not know your word. My aunt is a little bit of a healer too. She is not well sought out or anything, but she knows her way around different ocean plants and remedies. I would not qualify her for this or something else as extreme, but she can certainly take the sting from a fire coral cut or jellyfish burn, and I would not want anyone else plucking urchin thorns and treating the poisons,” I say, before snapping my mouth shut. I am not normally so open with strangers. 

    The woman appears not to notice my hesitation, or if she does, she does not comment on it, and simply moves on. “You do have a family out there then. I assumed so and have been meaning to ask about it. Riley, will they be looking for you? Because it’s going to be a few months at least before we can think about you going back to the ocean, so we should try to get into contact with them and let them know that you’re alright so they don’t think you dead and move on without you.”

    I wave a hand and shake my head. “Do not bother. I was not with them, have not been for quite some time. They do not know I am here or that I was injured. No one is looking for me or worrying about me.”

    “You aren’t with your family? Why not, did you get separated from them or something?”

    “Or something,” I respond. “Look, it is fine. I have been on my own since I was thirteen, by choice. I do not really get along with my mother and leaving was seen as a pretty big betrayal. I am not really welcome home anymore.”

    Sympathy swells in Sophie’s eyes. “You should be with your loved ones,” she whispers. “No one should be alone, Riley.”

    Her words make me bristle, feel like I am on display and being judged. “I do not need a lecture. I have been fine on my own,” I protest.

    Sophie glances over me pointedly. “I can see that.”

    “Shut up,” I snap, watching her recoil at my words. “You do not even know me, yet you judge me like this. I made a decision for myself and-”

    “Riley,” Sophie interrupts, holding up her hands in a show of mercy. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I wasn’t trying to pick a fight or make you mad. And I certainly wasn’t trying to judge you or lecture you, so if I’ve come across that way, I’m sorry. I just cannot imagine a child on her own like this. You must have to constantly be on guard, always watching your back. How you reacted when you woke up tells me that you are always willing to defend yourself first and ask questions later. I just think it must be a very taxing and lonely lifestyle is all.”

    I allow my anger to leave me as I stare at my lap, processing her words. “I am sorry, I should not have snapped. But you have to understand that I chose this and I chose it because it was the only way for me to stay true to myself. My mother and I never saw eye to eye when I was younger. I have always had more energy than good for me and an unquenchable thirst to learn, explore, and try new things. I love the rush of trying something new and exciting, and I strive to the best I can in everything that I do.  My mother did not agree. She believed that my behavior was inappropriate and she wanted me to be more lady-like and proper. She believed it wrong for me to enjoy wrestling, hunting, and adventure. She wanted me to learn things like healing and proper manners and she was oppressive in forcing me to follow her desires regardless of my own. I refused to believe that I should have to disregard everything I wanted; all my dreams, desires, who I am, simply to please my mother. And really that was the only way to make her happy,” I state with a shrug. “So I started sneaking out at night. I taught myself to hunt, defend myself, surf currents, and anything else I needed to know. The second I felt ready, I announce my intents and left, never looked back. I chose freedom and happiness and if never going back is the price I have to pay, then, while it hurts, then that is what I will do.” I wring my fingers and snort with an angry shake of my head. “Besides, I have done pretty well for myself and is she cannot be happy for me then that is her, ah-” I break off to clench my jaw and hug my chest as the pain flares up, burning through me and causing me to cry out.

    Sophie places a hand on my shoulder and gently pushes me back against the bed. “You are still injured. Try to relax and get some rest. You’re going to need it. I’m going to get you some painkillers, if you want them, and while I do; press that button, it will lower the bed back down so you can lay down,” Sophie instructs. I glance at the button she is indicating and I press my thumb into it, marveling at how the simple action causes the whole surface to move and lower. I keep pressure on it until I am comfortably horizontal.

    I watch Sophie return with something long, thin, and pointy, clutched between her fingers. Panic flares in me at the sight of it. “What is that?” I demand.

    “Relax, Riley, it’s just some medication. It will take the pain away for a little while so you can try to get to sleep. You don’t have to have it, but I would recommend it.”

    “Do I drink it?” I inquire.

    Sophie shakes her head. “No, it’s an injection, that’s what the needle is for. All I’d do is poke it into your arm for a few seconds. It’ll pinch a little, but it shouldn’t hurt.”

    I hesitate and chew on my lip. “It is safe?”

    “Yes.”

    “Have you had them before?”

    “Yes.”

    “Promise?”

    “Riley,” Sophie sighs. “In the past hour or so, have I done anything that would indicate I wished you harm? If we wanted you dead, we’d have left you to bleed out on that beach.”

    “I guess so,” I reply, seeing logic in her point. “Alright, but only if you think it will help.” I reluctantly offer her my arm.

    Sophie leans over me and takes my arm in her hand, squeezing at the muscle near my shoulder. “You may want to look away,” she advises. “Watching a needle go in can make people woozy.” I take her advice and avert my gaze, gritting my teeth as I feel a sharp pressured sting in my arm. Seconds later it fades and Sophie’s shadow moves away from me. I look up to see her placing the needle on one of the rock-like surfaces that is level with her stomach. “It will take a few minutes to kick in and won’t last too long. I don’t know how much Lewis wants you to have, but I’ll talk to him about getting it in a drip for your I.V so that it lasts,” she says, glancing up to offer me a smile. “It’s getting a little late, so you should get to sleep. Will you be alright in here by yourself?”

    I nod. “Yes.”

    Sophie chews her lip. “Okay, well, do you see that,” she extends an arm to point above us. I tilt my head back and notice a strange looking rock attached to the ceiling. It has a single, large black eye fixed on us. “That’s called a camera. It’s a device that allows people to see what’s going on in a room they aren’t in. Someone will be monitoring it all night, so if you need anything at all, just wave an arm at it and someone will be in alright? Probably Lewis or his intern. You can trust them both, so don’t freak out when they come in. I’ll come back tomorrow morning, okay?”

    “Alright,” I agree. I pause for a moment before adding “thank you. For everything.”

    Sophie smiles as she hovers in the room’s entryway. “You're welcome. Oh and Riley?”

    “Hmm?”

    “I think your mother is a fool to have missed out on the chance to have a really great daughter,” she whispers. I am not given a chance to answer her before the room goes dark and she is gone.


	24. Admitted Feelings

**Sophie**

“Yes!” The enthusiasm in Riley’s voice startles me back into focusing on her rather than the game. “Check!”

I stare silently over the game, note her move. She put too much focus into it and seems to have forgotten her other pieces. I move my castle, taking her previously threatening rook, and completing my surround attack. “Checkmate,” I counter.

I watch Riley’s eye dart over the board and the pieces, clearly looking for an opening I might have missed; something to counteract my statement. I see the muscle in her jaw tense, her lips opening slightly; with disbelief or protest, I'm not sure. Then her ice blue orbs, narrowed with determination, fixate on me. “Rematch,” she demands, her voice a flustered hiss. Her fins curl up and flick back out, reminding me of a cat lashing its tail, in a clear irritation that makes me chuckle even as I shake my head.

“No, this was our fourth game and you swore at the end of the last one that _this_ would be the final round. I think we should call it a day. You are supposed to resting after all and this is clearly getting you worked up.”

Riley snorts. “I am not worked up,” she protests.

“Either way, I think I’ve had my fill of chess for today,” I say as I sweep the pieces back into the box and fold in the board. “You seem a little better today; certainly less pale. How’s the pain been?” I ask. It’s been three days since Riley was brought in and I’m still very concerned for her health.

“Better,” Riley replies.

“The painkillers are helping?” I raise an eyebrow at her, knowing how difficult she’s been the past couple of days about taking them. She nods, her hair falling into her face. She blows them back and gives her head a shake. “Are those natural?” I find myself asking. “The bangs? They’re a bit of an unusual color.”

Riley shrugs. “Yeah, I know, but they have always been that way, and have never grown past my jawline. I have never cut them.”

I frown. It’s a bit of a strange notion to process. “And what about the fins on your arms?” I inquire. “I don’t remember seeing them until the one was pressed against my throat.”

Riley ducks her head. “Sorry about that,” she whispers, as though apologizing feels alien to her. “I have a tendency to react badly to strange people and places, especially if I am injured and the person could be a threat.”

“I know,” I reply. “It’s okay, no harm done.” I reach out and gently brush my fingers over her forearm, pausing just before the colorful, spiny fin. I watch it quiver and flex, folding up against her arm. Seconds later it vanishes from sight, seeming to disappear entirely into the skin of her arm. I feel my mouth drop open slightly.

Riley shrugs. “To answer your question. My spines merge with my arm if I want them too. I am not quite sure how, but I imagine it works the same way it does with my gills. I do not pull them in often, but it does make it a little more comfortable when sleeping. I can do the same thing with my gliders.”

“Those big fins on your hips?” I ask.

Riley nods, her fin pulling free of her skin once more.

“That’s amazing,” I comment. I gesture to the fin on her arm, now curious to see what it feels like. “May I?”

“Uh, sure, I guess,” Riley answers as she hesitantly offers out her arm. I run my finger up a spine, smooth and slightly cold to the touch; it feels sharp even without poking the top. I gently touch the thin membrane spider-webbed between the spines, afraid that I may accidentally tear the thin looking fin. It has a silky and almost saran wrap feel to it, but it also much more rigid than I thought. Riley shudders as I touch it. “That kind of tickles.”

“Sorry.” I let my hand drop away and meet her gaze instead.

She shrugs, the stretches out, tail muscles bunching, fins flaring. A simple motion that then causes her face to cave with pain, a soft whimper dying in her throat. “This sucks,” she sighs after a moment.

“I know it’s hard, but you're going to have to try to just lie there and not move around much.”

Riley groans. “Yeah, that is the hard part. I am not so good at lying around.”

“Maybe I can help distract you for a moment.” I jump at the sound of Lewis’s voice behind me. I hadn’t heard him come in. He grins at me and offers me a mischievous wink. I roll my eyes at him.

“You're not funny,” I inform him.

“Coffee?” He offers, nodding his head towards the two steaming mugs on the counter. He must have brought them in with him.

“Thanks,” I cave with a smile, retrieving the mug with the lighter colored liquid. “Though how you drink yours black I will never know.”

He shrugs and turns his attentions to Riley. “How’s the pain?” he asks.

“Bearable as long as I do not move or breathe,” Riley grumbles.

“Perhaps we’ll give you some more painkillers afterwards. But right now I need to take a listen to your chest,” he says, sticking his stethoscope buds into his ears and pressing the end against Riley’s torso, just above her scale line. “Take a really deep breath for me and hold it.”

I watch Riley wince and pale a bit. Her jaw tightens and then her chest expands, slowly and shakily, as pained creases worm across her face.

“Good, now breathe out slowly,” Lewis murmurs. After a moment, he pulls the chest piece away from her skin. “Alright, now I need you to take some medication-” Lewis breaks off as he turns and glances around. “Now where did I put-”

I cut him off by clearing my throat as I finish measuring out the dosage written on the bottle. “Uh, Lewis? You left it with the coffee,” I state as I hold up the medicine cup.

“Right, thanks, Soph,” he replies, taking it from me.

“Mhm,” I respond as I take a drink of the coffee in my hand. I watch Lewis hand Riley the medicine cup.

She eyes the murky red-black liquid with a calculating and suspicious gaze. “What is this exactly?”

“Medication,” Lewis answers. “It will help ward off infection and fight the slight fever you are beginning to come down with. Injured as you are, you cannot afford to get sick because I honestly doubt you’d be able to fight it off. Drink it.”

After a moment or two of hesitation, Riley presses the cup against her lips and downs the liquid in a single gulp. Then she begins to cough, gagging as she clearly struggles to force it down. “That stuff is awful,” she manages after a moment, her eyes scrunched, nose wrinkled in disgust.

Lewis chuckles as he leans against the counter. “Well, what were you expecting it to taste like? It’s _medicine._ ”

I shake my head. “Oh, come off her case. If I remember correctly, you moaned and complained for weeks about the taste of the bronchitis medication you had to take in high school,” I state. “It was rather pathetic.”

“Says the woman who, to this day, cannot swallow a pill,” Lewis counters.

“I can swallow a pill,” I scoff, bumping him with my hip. “It just takes me a little longer, that’s all.”

“Hmm, right.”

I take another drink of my coffee and watch how Riley’s head tilts slightly as she looks between us. “So, how long have the two of you been mates?”

Her question startles me and it takes me a moment to actually answer her. Beside me, I hear Lewis choking on the coffee he was previously drinking. I clear my throat a little before addressing the teen’s question. “Riley, no; Lewis and I aren’t together. We’re just good friends.”

Riley snorts and shakes her head. “Whatever you say,” she replies.

Silence falls over the three of us and I cannot help but notice Lewis scuffing the tip of his shoe across the floor tiles, his fingertips and knuckles white from clenching the blue coffee mug in his hands.  There appears to be a bit of sombre mood hanging over him as he purses his lips and doesn’t speak.

Riley’s fins twitch and she appears uncomfortable in the awkward silence. “Um-” she’s cut off by the rumble of her own stomach.

I can’t help but smile, laughing internally. “Hungry?” I ask. Lewis hasn’t let her eat anything yet for fear of it upsetting her stomach. Throwing up would not be good for her recovery process. Still, we cannot let her live off of I.V fluids for much longer, she would get very sick and weak from that, and I doubt that Lewis wants to do the surgery for a feeding tube. I glance at him now, wondering what his plan is.

He clears his throat and nods, pushing away from the counter. “Yes, well I do want you to start eating again, but we’ll take it slowly. What do you normally eat?”

“I am not picky,” she replies. “Virtually anything I can catch or find. Fish, crustaceans, kelps and grasses, fruits... anything really.”

Lewis bobs his head softly, clearly thinking. “Alright, well, I’ll want to monitor you throughout and we’ll start mall. Ground up fish in a hot water bath. Won't be much in the way of taste, but it should be gentle on your systems. I also want you to be drinking a fair amount of water. Keeping you out of the water like this is making me nervous, but it’s for the best, so I need to make sure you stay hydrated. If you start to feel overly tired or dried out, be sure to say something, alright?”

Riley nods in agreement. “Okay,” she replies.

“Good. I’m going to go get things prepared then; I’ll be back in about half an hour. I want you to try and get some rest while I’m gone,” Lewis orders.

“I guess that means I should get going too and give you a chance to relax. I’ll come check in on you again later, alright?” I say to the girl. “And I’ll bring another game or something down for you and we’ll play.”

Riley smiles. “Thank you. I appreciate it. You need not fuss over me like this, though. I am alright.”

“I know,” I reply. “I just want to make sure.” I pick up the chess box and clutch it to my chest so I can put it away after. “Get some sleep alright?”

“Alright,” Riley agrees. “I suppose there is not much else for me to do anyways. She pauses a moment before adding, “do you think you could make it dark in here again? Like you did last time.”

“Of course,” I answer. “I'll see you later.” I follow Lewis out into the hall, clicking the light off and closing the door as I do. Lewis and I walk silently, side by side, down the brightly lit hallway. Once we’ve rounded the corner and I’m certain we’re out of range of Riley’s very excellent hearing, I corner Lewis against the algae green wall. “What was that back there?” I demand.

“What? Riley’s comment? I have no idea where it came from,” he protests.

I shake my head. “Not her comment, your reaction. Why is it that when I corrected her, you looked like a kicked puppy?” I watch his face fall, watch him fall silent and get slightly fidgety like he does when he wants to avoid a conversation. “Lewis?”

He sighs, rubs the back of his neck. “We aren’t together, but… I, uh, I’ve wanted to be for a while now,” he admits.

Shock courses through me, though I force myself not to visibly recoil in case he takes it the wrong way and I hurt his feelings. “How long is a while?” I ask.

“Uh, since I first had a crush on you in eleventh grade,” he replies.

“High school. Lewis, why did you never say anything?” I exclaim.

He shrugs. “At first, because I was new, shy, and knew you had feelings for Michael.”

“Not a valid excuse. Roxanne and Michael got together in eleventh grade. I was fine with it, moved on. And that was years ago.”

“Like I said, I was shy. By the time I had worked up the nerve to ask you, you were going on that trip and, well, after…” He trails off.

I close my eyes, pain digging its cruel talons into my heart at the bitter reminder of everything that cursed trip cost me. I nod my head and wet my lips. “You could have just said that was why,” I answer finally. “That you want a family. I’ve always known that would be the reason things tore apart in-”

“No, Soph, that has absolutely nothing to do with it. I meant that when you got home, you needed friends, support; not my wishes and feelings. And yes, I’ll admit that when I was a stupid kid, I got hung up on that; hesitated at the thought of not being a father, of never raising a child. I was foolish and I’ve regretted the hesitation every day since I realized that I was okay with it.”

“When did you realize that?”

“I think it fully hit me on my twentieth birthday,” he responds. “When Roxanne and Michael were moving in together, when my sister was with a guy, and I was still alone, still stuck on my feelings. I realized then that I probably never would be a father anyways because I wasn’t going to ever want a relationship with anyone else. I would have told you then, almost did, but-”

“I was seeing someone,” I finish for him. “It ended badly. I knew it would.”

Lewis nods. “Yeah, well then we just got so busy with building this place up and getting settled into our adult lives that time slipped by. And now… Well with recent events, I just,” he hesitates. “I figured you needed a friend more than you needed-”

I hold up a hand, stop him there, and shake my head. “Sometimes you are too stupidly selfless for your own good. You should have said something. I see you every day Lewis. If Riley hadn’t of said something today and brought this about, would you ever have told me?” I demand, shocked to the core at how ironically stupid and ignorant we’d both been. I had once looked at him to. My reasons for never speaking up were the same they’ve always been; my hesitation to get into something and ruin a friendship because I can’t give the one thing most couples eventually want. So, I had buried my feelings and moved on. But secretly I was thrilled when he agreed to go into business with me and if I had known this forever ago, things may have been very different. I listen to him babble on about an apology and an explanation for only a few seconds longer before I become frustrated and put an end to it.

I fist my fingers into the collar of his shirt and kiss him. It’s a little sloppy, and I very nearly miss his lips entirely, still catch his stubbled cheek, but I simply blame it on the fact that it has been a very long time since I’ve done this.

After a moment, I pull away and offer Lewis a smile; one I doubt he actually registers due to the dumbfounded and blank look on his face. “We’ll talk after,” I tell him with a wink. “Right now we have a hungry Mer to feed.”


	25. It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is going to be updated once a week on the Monday from now on. However, this chapter is rather short in comparison to others, so I'm releasing it tonight and the next chapter for Monday as scheduled. Enjoy, and have a lovely weekend everyone.

**Katie**

I start a little as Luna nearly barrels into me in her haste to hurry into the cave. A look of childish glee adorns her face and she keeps something clutched to her chest. I have a pretty good idea of what it is and, sure enough, as she curls up on the sand, a starfish falls from her hands and into her lap. Her finger ghosts over its surface lovingly. The creature was her reward, something she had asked for, as promised by Dr. Auldon for being good the past month. He’d stated that he would be starting out small and the better we did onwards, the bigger our rewards could be. I had been hoping to be able to spend the day outside. Not in the ocean or anything, just outside; to be able to feel the sun, see the world after so long stuck indoors. I’ve never been cooped up like this before and it’s starting to drive me crazy. Dr. Auldon hadn’t gone for the idea though, so instead I’d gotten to eat chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner. Apparently the change hasn’t affected my ability to digest human foods. The scientists think that Mer stomachs are like human ones and can digest a wide range of foods. The meal is sitting pleasantly inside of me. I’ll admit that I gorged a bit.

I push off the grassy cave floor and swim over to sit beside her. “So, why did you want the starfish again?” I ask curiously. It had been something she was very eager to have, but she made it very clear that she wanted it to be alive, that she didn’t want to eat it, so I’m unsure of its significance to her. She grins up at me and, instead of answering, rubs a finger across the creature’s underbelly. Its limbs shudder, quaking as though tickled, seconds before it begin to sing.

Singing is the best word I can use to describe the long, comforting, and beautiful melody escaping the little five-limbed thing. I watch Luna’s eyes slide shut, her fin twitching and swaying slightly, while her thumbs rub over the starfish’s limbs. The cave seems peaceful for a few moments as the song slowly fades back into silence.

“I didn’t know that they did that,” I comment. “Maybe people can’t hear them, and that’s why there’s never been any mention of starfish singing. We have a couple back home and I’ve never heard them do this. Maybe it’s because you can hear so much better,” I state. Luna shrugs and continues to massage the starfish’s long appendages. “This is something you remembered, isn’t it? That’s why you wanted a starfish so badly. You remembered what they sounded like.”

Luna nods, her head finding my shoulder as she releases the starfish back into her lap. ‘I really love starfish song. It is pretty and calming and it reminds me of home.’

I drape an arm around her shoulder and hug her close. “It is a really pretty song, isn't it?” I agree. “How often do they do that?”

‘Starfish like to sing and they love to have their arms massaged because they stiffen up and have no way to relax by themselves. A starfish will sing if you ask, and it is always polite to give them a rub afterwards,’ Luna answers. ‘That is what my mom told me.’

“You’ve never mentioned starfish before,” I comment. “Is this something you’ve recently remembered?”

Luna nods. ‘Yes. It was when I saw you drawing in the sand a little while ago. You were tracing the outlines of dolphins, shells, and starfish. I joined you, remember? And when I started drawing starfish too, I remembered holding a real one and how much I wanted to see one again. Then I started to remember a bunch of things about starfish. I was hoping that actually getting to hear one sing again might help me remember more about my past,’ she explains.

“Well, did it?” I ask.

She shakes her head. ‘No, but it is still nice to be close to something from my past.’

I nod. “Still, the fact that you’ve been remembering things at all is good, Luna, really good,” I start, hugging her tightly. “We just have to find more triggers.”

Luna nods and is still for a moment before she raises her hands to reply with, ‘I wonder what my name is. It is so strange that I can remember that I like starfish and that I was six years old when I last saw my family, but I cannot remember what my name is or what my mother looks like. How come I cannot remember the important stuff like that?’

I chew on my lip and drag my fingers through her forest of hair. “Well, to be honest, I’m not sure why, I don’t know much about how the mind works. Maybe it’s because you don’t have any reminders of things like that. Like, drawing starfish allowed you to remember that you liked them, and then why you liked them, but no one has addressed you by name in so long that you don’t remember what people called you, and you have no connection to anyone that fills the maternal role to you even a little around here. If you did, maybe that would trigger something. Like if there was a woman here that you were close to and she wore a shirt one day that happened to be the same color as your mother’s scales; you may feel comforted and reminder that ‘oh yeah, my mom’s scales are that color,’ and that would lead you to think about her. Maybe that would lead you to remember her hair and eyes and then it would be easier to keep her image in your head. You were so young when everything was torn from your life that it’s not surprising that your memory is frayed and needs to be triggered by something,” I say. “Does that make any sense?”

Luna nods slowly, a yawn splitting her features and revealing the pointed ends of her fangs. I rub her shoulder and nod towards the large grass bed before us. “It’s been a bit of a crazy day, and tomorrow we have to perform all day. We should get some sleep,” I suggest. Luna nods and yawns again, her fisted fingers coming up to rub at her eyes. I take her hands and pull them away from her face. “Don’t do that,” I scold gently. “I doubt that they were lying when they said you had an eye infection. Just in case, you shouldn’t rub at your eyes unless you want to spend another hour or so completely blinded.”

Luna shudders and shakes her head, wringing her fingers. I pull her up and lead her down into the grass. She curls up around her sea star and pulls her fin up to brush her nose. I drift down beside her and stretch out on my back, relaxing into the grasses. One of the few benefits of my situation would be the weightless feeling, even when lying on the ground, leads to a very comfortable slumber. I yawn and let my eyes slide shut as I relax and it isn’t long before sleep takes me.

 

***

 

I wake with a start and shoot upright. A quick glance shows Luna just as tense next to me, her eyes wide, head slanted to the left as she listened to the noise that woke us. Echoing like distant thunder, the stomp of footfalls ascending the metal ramp.

‘Do you hear it too?’ Luna asks.

I nod, even as my brow furrows. “No one comes up here this late,” I murmur.

‘Are we in trouble?’ The flash of crazed fear in her eyes has me pulling Luna close.

“We didn’t do anything,” I reply. “Maybe Dr. Auldon decided to have us do some late night training?” The words feel dead and stupid long before I’ve finished speaking them. “Should we go up and see what’s going on?” I suggest finally. “So we don’t have to sit here and worry?”

I watch a fang poke from her mouth as she nibbles on her top lip, a nervous tick I’ve noticed in her. After a long moment, her muscles bunch as she pushes off the sand, her sea star lying forgotten. A slight current blows at my bangs as her fin flashes in front of my face. I ease out of our cave behind her and crane my neck towards the surface. Shadowy figures are bustling about above, their reflections blurring to dark, disfigured blobs across the skin of the water. The commotion is certainly far from normal and seems unnecessary both for the late hour and for if it happens to be a training session. There is not much to set up for a training session and we would have been called if we were wanted or in trouble. After a moment’s hesitation, I gather my courage.

“I'm going up,” I decide. “Do you want to stay here?” I glance at Luna as I ask the question. A bead of blood is dispersing into the surrounding water with how hard she’s bitten her lip. Finally her head shakes furiously.

‘I will go with you,’ she decides, puffing her chest out in an attempt to appear braver than I know she feels. I take her hand, smile in response to her look of gratitude, and then lash my fin as I head up.

We’re just about to break the surface when a pair of gloved hands dips into the water, grabbing me by the shoulders and hauling me up, a second person going after Luna. A hand is clamped over my mouth, cutting off my startled shriek, and I’m given no chance to catch a glimpse of the people here as a thick blindfold is pulled over my eyes and a fabric gag replacing the hand over my mouth. I hear Luna’s fin smack against the concrete floor, her hiss cut off midway, and a torrent of fear sweeps through me as my unknown assailant forces my tail to my chest and ties my wrists together so I'm hugging the sleek scales.


	26. The Breakout

**Olivia**

 

My heart is pounding in my chest like a hammer against a nail. I take a deep breath and force myself to focus on what Lukshia is saying.

“Alright, so we move tonight,” her voice carries focused, determined authority as she addresses not just me, but the two other members of the team she’s gathered together. I don’t know either of them personally, but if Lukshia trusts them, then I’m confident that they won’t sell us out or turn on us. “You know the plan; stick to it. In and out in under twenty. We do this silently. They have voice sensors as part of security and if we trip those, it’s game over. So not a word. The mermaids are to be handled with complete care, but since we cannot explain to them that we’re friends, first priority is getting them gagged and immobilized so the sensors aren’t set off. We’ll worry about explaining and soothing once we’re on the road. Blindfolds are also required. In case things go wrong and we have to leave them behind, I don’t want our identities known and being revealed. Johnson, you’re in charge of driving. Be ready to go. Allen, you’re on camera duty. Keep an eye on things from inside the truck. Any concerns?”

Neither of her companions speak. Lukshia nods her head. “Then go, do what you have to do to prepare, meet back here in forty-five minutes and we’ll drive out to the center.”

I watch the two take off, and then find Lukshia right in front of me. “You okay?” she asks. “You look a little pale.”

“Just a little nervous,” I admit, rubbing the side of my neck to work out a stress kink. “You’re sure about all of this?”

Lukshia nods, her features soft, no longer hardened and firm like two minutes ago. She places a hand on my shoulder. “I need you to trust me Olivia; this is what I do after all.”

I sigh and brush a lock of my hair back behind my ear, make a mental note to tie it back. “I know and I’m sorry. I'm just nervous; I’ve never done this sort of thing before.”

“Which is why I need you to trust me. I need you focused,” Lukshia says.

“What do you need me here for again? You never actually said.”

Lukshia smiles. “Well, you have a couple jobs. The first is to do what you do. You're a sea vet, Olivia; we’re stealing mermaids. What better doctor than one who deals directly with the ocean? We’re going to be on the road a while and they may need some attention. I’m also going to need you to be prepped for surgery, which is why I had you bring your equipment.”

“Surgery?” I repeat with a frown.

Lukshia winces and nods. “Yeah, as much I hate to think about it, those girls are incredibly valuable and likely will have tags and other chips inside them. Those will need to come out and you’re the best qualified for it out of all of us.”

I take a deep breath, suddenly dizzy and nauseous. “Lukshia, I don’t know if I am qualified to be digging chips out of them. I-”

“Relax,” Lukshia orders. “You can do this.”

“Okay,” I agree with a deep breath. “Whatever it takes. What’s the other job?”

“You’ll be coming inside with me. It’s the smartest move, I think. The others have more experience, but you know your way around tanks and you know one of the targets. That said; don’t let it get personal. Stay detached and stick with the plan,” Lukshia decides.

I nod. “Alright. And you’re certain about all of this?”

“Olivia,” Lukshia warns. “We’ve talked about trusting me. I need you to relax and put some faith in me if we’re going to pull this off. Now come on, let me show you the base.”

I follow her up into the transport truck that she’s made into our base on the road. I haven’t bothered to ask where it came from, but the seafood delivery logo on the side should make it a little less conspicuous tonight. Inside is set up almost like an army travel base, with four metal cots stacked on part of the one wall in two rows. Beside those, are two lower, wider metal tables that, judging by the boxes of medical equipment belted down underneath them, are likely examination tables. The floor of the front of the trailer is an in-ground metal basin that is about a meter in length away from the wall and stretches the width of the trailer. A makeshift tank. It isn’t overly big to fit both mermaids, but should provide enough room for sleeping at least. The opposite side of the trailer is taken up by a fridge and some crib-rimmed shelves already stocked with cans and packages of food, along with a microwave. The final addition to the rather impressive trailer is a long desk of three computer screens.

Lukshia points to them. “That’s where Allen’s going to be. He’ll be watching all the cameras, let us know about unexpected guard rotations or anything else that might arise. You’ll have an earpiece, but don’t answer him. The voice sensors are only on the tank deck, but I don’t want to attract attention anyways, so complete silence unless absolutely necessary.”

“Okay,” I agree, gazing around the trailer in awe. “How did you manage all of this?”

Lukshia grins. “Giant generator underneath powers the fridge and the computers. The cots and tables weren’t hard. Tank took the most effort and it’ll need to be filled manually, but it should suffice for the trip.” She bends down by the observation table and tugs out a small white briefcase about the size of a large first aid kit or AED. She hands it to me. “Even portable x-ray machines are too large to bring in here, plus the radiation is too risky. But that’s just a scanner. It’ll take more work, but it should have no problem picking up metal or tech inside a body. It’s a high-grade piece of equipment. Can you work it?”

I run a hand over the casing. “Yeah,” I reply. “It shouldn’t be a problem. How do you get your hands on all this stuff?”

Lukshia waves a hand and offers me a wink. “Trade secret.”

“Mhm.”

 

 **Lukshia** places a hand on my arm. “Okay, so remember the plan,” she tells me. “Everything is going to go fine. We have false ID’s and complete uniforms, even if we run into someone; they’ve no reason to be suspicious. So if we come across a guard, stay calm, let me do the talking, okay?”

“Alright,” I agree, my fingers tightening around the rail of the cleaners cart, already filled with several garbage bags.

“Are you ready?” Lukshia asks as she glances around. We’re standing just outside the employee entrance to the research center.

I inhale deeply, force myself to relax, then I nod my head. “Let’s go.”

Lukshia nods, the curly burgundy wig bobbing slightly on her head. My own hair is tucked up beneath a long brown wig that’s been pulled into a ponytail. I watch Lukshia swipe a key card and punch in the six-digit code. The red light above the door flashes green and the automatic doors slide open. Lukshia takes the lead and I follow in step, pushing the cart. The halls are barren and silent, eerie almost, save for the squeaky noise of the cart’s wheels bumping over the floor tiles.

I studied the blueprint layout of the center while we were on the road, and I know that we are nearing the tank.

I nearly jump from my skin when the earpiece buzzes to life with Allen’s voice. “You are about to enter the dead zone. That one hall with no camera view. Both ends look pretty clear, but be on guard just in case,” he warns. Lukshia doesn’t even twitch as she continues walking, leading us down the empty hall.

Footsteps up ahead cause me to tense up and I nearly stop walking. Lukshia glances back at me and gives me a reassuring look. We have ID cards and everything will blow over fine, I remind myself. That’s the plan.

Except when the owner of the footsteps rounds the corner nearly on top of us, I know that the plan just might crumble and mild disguises aren’t going to be enough.

The young woman pauses, her brown eyes narrowing slightly for a moment, then widening with recognition. I take a moment to look her over; it has been a few months since I saw her last. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a bun, only a few stray curly wisps cupping her face. Dressed in a long white coat, an intern pass clipped to the chest, and both arms holding a heavy looking file box, she stares at me as I stare back. What on earth is she doing here?

Elizabeth breaks the silence first, her whispery voice a mixture of awe and fear. “Aunt Olivia?”

Lukshia purses her lips, but doesn’t speak, clearly waiting to see how this will play out. I don’t answer my niece, still slightly in shock at finding her here. The daughter of my older half-brother, Lucas, she was born when I was mid-way through vet school. She’d always taken an interest in my work, wanting to help in my early years on the job. I knew she’d applied and would be in her fourth year now. She had been talking about her co-op placement, but I never heard where she was placed.

Her eyes shift from me to the cleaners cart, her eyes widening as she takes a slight step back. “You’re here for them.” It’s a statement, not a question. “To free them?”

“Yes,” I reply curtly, my voice colder than I expected it to be. Her involvement with this shocks me and I’m not sure if I should feel disgusted or not.

Elizabeth recoils at my tone and, surprisingly her eyes water and she sinks to her knees as she smothers a sob. “I'm sorry,” she whispers. “I never wanted any part in this. This is my co-op placement and I just wanted to do well, to be like you and I-” she breaks off long enough to shake her head. “I didn’t expect him to be such a monster and afterwards,” she glances up at me. “I couldn’t just walk away and leave them here; I just didn’t know what to do.”

I feel myself relax, my expression softening. “It’s okay, Elizabeth. Come on now get yourself together. Look, I know you and I know that you wouldn’t eagerly be a part of this. I’m not going to ask you to help us; I don’t want you to have any involvement because we’re related. But can you just continue on your way? None of the cameras are actually rolling right now. Feign ignorance?” I practically plead as I help her to her feet and give her back her file box.

Elizabeth nods. “Yeah, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to get overly emotional; now’s not the time. Look, I never saw you, but I can do more than that. I'm assuming you know about the voice security around the tank, but if you make some noise; loud footsteps or something, it won’t trip the sensors, but it will probably wake them both. Dr. Auldon isn’t someone either of those girl’s want to mess with and they’ll probably come right to you if they think that it’s him,” she advises. “And on your way out, the security guard normally takes a five minute break to go out the back for a smoke in about twenty minutes. Try not to run into him on your way out.”

I nod. “Alright. Thanks. Elizabeth, seriously, lay low for the next couple of weeks, okay?”

“I will. My placement ends next week, so I’ll be sure to go back to the university like normal, but if they’re still with you, can I come down after?”

“We’ll talk,” Lukshia finally speaks up. “Now we have to go. We’re losing time.”

I nod. “Alright, let’s go,” I agree.

“Good luck,” Elizabeth offers. “Tell Katie that I’m sorry for me okay? I’m assuming that’s why you're here, because you know who she really is.”

I nod and make a slight shooing motion with my hand. “Go back to work. Wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.”

She nods and adjusts the file box in her arms before continuing past us down the hall.

“Close call,” I breathe, glad that it was Elizabeth and that she was willing to risk her co-op to help us.

“Mhm,” Lukshia agrees. She continues down the hall and I hurry after her.

“What took so long?” Allen’s voice echoes in my ear. You two were in that hall for an awful long time, did something happen? Are we still okay?”

Lukshia doesn’t respond, but she flashes the nearest camera a thumbs up. Her hacking skills amaze me, but it’s a good thing; while Allen can see everything the cameras do, all the security here will see is pre-recorded regular guard rotations.

As we begin up the winding metal ramp that spirals the giant hourglass tank, Lukshia grabs the front of the cart and helps me haul it up. Keeping Elizabeth’s advice in mind, I make a point to step much louder than normal as we climb to the platform.

When we reach the top, Lukshia puts her finger to her mouth in reminder before beginning to lay out and partially stuff the two empty garbage bags. She’s shoving another towel into one when the earpiece goes off.

“Hey, Lukshia, be ready. Both fish are coming up to you now,” Allen alerts.

Lukshia beckons me to the edge. Kneeling at the edge, Lukshia remains silent and still until the two blurry forms appear within arms’ reach. Then, with reflexes faster than I’d believe possible, she’s lurched forward and is hauling Katie out of the water. I lean forward and manage to get a grip around the younger child’s waist and yank her from the water. Following Lukshia’s lead, I tie a blindfold into place and cut off the little girl’s hiss as I fix a cloth gag into place.

Tying her arms and tail proves a challenge as the child bucks and thrashes on the ground. Lukshia steps in and jerks a thumb back towards Katie in a clear order for me to let her take over instead. I step back and move towards Katie. She jerks in her already tied restraints, terror etched on her features. I smooth down the shortened strands of hair on her head. Then I hoist the bound teen off the ground and nestle her into the towel filled garbage bag. Shoving two more in around her, I draw the bag shut and tie it off, and then I lift it up and gently place it into the cart alongside the one containing the other girl. Tied with purple ribbons so we can easily pick them out among the other bags, the two special ones still won’t attract any attention if we’re checked… If the one would stop squirming. Katie’s bag remains relatively still, only the occasion shift, but the younger girl is still freaking out and thrashing about. I press down on the bag, wishing I could sooth her fears; we need her to be still since moving garbage would certainly look suspicious.

Lukshia surprises me by pulling a large, piece of cardboard from the cart. She lays it over top of the bag hiding the girls and places the rest of the bags on top. It succeeds in disguising any movement from the bags. Taking my spot behind the cart, I begin to push it back down after Lukshia.

As we near the exit, Lukshia’s pace quickens and I can tell that she’s eager to get out of her. I gratefully match her pace. The sooner we’re out of this place, the better I’ll feel.

As we round the final corner, the back door in sight, we run into trouble.

“Guard,” Allen’s voice warns through the earbud just as the back door opens and a guard steps in. His black hair is smoothed with too much gel and a coffee stain is evident on his uniform. His eyes narrow as he sees us and I feel my breath catch, heart drumming in my chest.

“Can I help you ladies?” He demands in a slightly gravelly voice.

Lukshia shrugs. “Nope, just taking the trash out now,” she replies smoothly.

The guard arches a brow. “Takes two of you to do that?”

“No,” Lukshia snorts as though it were obvious. “But the cart has to be stored in the back shed tonight. Cleaning staff tomorrow has to clean it out and restock it. So once we take the trash out, there’s no reason to come back in. We’re clocking out for the night.”

The guard is silent for a moment, clearly mulling her explanation over. He glances up and down our uniforms. Finally, “let me see your I.D.”

I unclip mine from the chest of my shirt while Lukshia removes hers from her chest pocket. Both are offered up to the guard.

After a moment, he grunts in acknowledgement and waves a hand. “Alright, go ahead. You know, sometimes it might be nice to see some action around here. Little too quiet at times,” he complains before walking off down the hall.

 _You’re going to see some excitement tonight,_ I think.

“Come on,” Lukshia keeps her voice low. “They have heat sensors in the tank that the guards monitor. It won’t be long before he realizes it’s empty.”

I nod and hurry through the door she holds open for me. The cart’s tires squeak and bounce over the uneven pavement as we flee across the parking lot to the back of the transport trailer. Allen pushes the doors open for us as we arrive. Reaching in, Lukshia grabs the cardboard and hauls it up, one of the top bags tumbling to the ground. I reach in and hoist out the first of the bags, passing it off to Allen.

He’s just taken the second from me when the facility’s alarm sounds. Lukshia’s eyes widen.

“Time to go,” she decides. I bend down to help collapse the cart and she waves a hand. “No time, leave it,” she orders. “Get in.”

I hoist myself up into the trailer and offer her a hand. She takes it and step up into the van.

“Go!” she orders as she pulls the trailer’s door down and shut. Allen bangs on the front wall of the trailer and the engine spurs to life, tires squealing as the transport truck lurches into motion and speeds off.

As it begins to move, I lose my footing and, had Lukshia not fisted her hand in the fabric of my shirt, I would have tumbled down on top of one of the bags.

“You alright?” she asks.

I nod, straighten up, and dust off my pants. “Fine. Thanks.”

I earn a half grin seconds before she tosses me a pocket knife and nods to one of the bags.

“Get to work,” she orders as she bends down and slits open one of the bags with another knife and hoists the younger girl up onto one of the metal tables. The child’s head darts frantically around and she tugs on her restraints. I pull open the other bag and Katie tumbles out of it.

Her tailfin smacks against the floor as she tries to push herself upright without the use of her hands. I gently take Katie’s wrists and slice through the rope, freeing her. Then I scoop her up and set her down on the other table. I run a hand down her cheek and she turns her head. Even blindfolded, I can still feel her gaze; can sense her fear and confusion. “It’s okay,” I whisper to the girl. “You're safe now, I promise. I need you to lie down on your belly, alright?” I push gently on her spine in an attempt to encourage her.

The sleek tail shifts and swipes out over the table as she moves and slowly lowers herself down on the table. I brush the short fronds of her hair away from her neck so I can get a look at the chain around her neck. “I'm going to want to get these off first,” I state, glancing at Lukshia.

She nods. “Good idea, those would be easy to lace with tracers. I have some wire cutters; do you think those will be strong enough?”

“Yeah, those should do the trick; the chain itself isn't that thick.” Before I finish speaking, Lukshia has an arm outstretched to me, wire cutters wrapped in her fingers. I shake my head and accept them. “Do you just have a whole toolbox hidden on your person?”

“No. But it helps to be prepared in this line of work. I had them in case we needed to shut down the power feeds.”

“Good point. Well, thanks.” I turn back to Katie and brush my fingers over the links of the chain, observe it closely. That’s when I notice the weak point in the links. They aren’t actually connected to the clasp, rather held in place by a thicker, tough looking wire. I frown, but position the cutters around it. “Alright sweetheart, stay nice and still for me.”

Katie stiffens beneath me, but she doesn’t move. I let the jaws of the cutter close firmly around the wire. There’s a sharp sparking noise and then a strangled scream, muffled and warped by the gag, escapes Katie’s throat as her body begins to convulse. Startled, I yank the still sparking collar away from her neck. Horror fills me at the bright red, blistering skin of her neck is revealed.

Lukshia snorts in disgust. “Shock collars. I suppose we should have expected that. Is it still live?”

I shake my head, glance at the limp chain on the floor of the trailer. Lukshia bends and picks it up, turning it over in her hands. “It’s actually pretty ingenious. The wire has these little live prongs that press directly against the wearer’s neck, while the thing is coated in rubber. IT would allow them to shock her while she’s underwater without worrying about frying her and the other mermaid.”

“It’s barbaric,” I spit. “How can someone do something like this to children?”

“This is why I’ve wanted to screw with the secret government facilities,” Lukshia responds. “The heartless bastards only do what benefits them without a care about who they hurt in the process. Look, we still have to get the younger one’s collar off. Hand me the cutters, I’ll do it. Meanwhile, you get the burn cream out of the first aid kit because that looks like a nasty electrical burn and we should treat it so it doesn’t leave her with a ringed scar around her neck. That wouldn’t be too pleasant a reminder.”

“Alright,” I agree, passing off the wire cutters. “Go for the clasp. The wire is actually the only connector between the links and the clasp.”

“If you don’t need me,” Allen’s voice startles me. I’d forgotten he was still here. “I’m going to go up front with Johnson and play navigator. Any specific destination?”

“Nope,” Lukshia replies. “Just drive. I want to throw them off the trail for as long as possible before we head back to Florida. And be careful heading up front. The last thing I need is you falling underneath the wheels. Then we have a body to hide and I’m down a partner,” she orders.

Allen nods. “Will do.” Then he turns slips through the door that will take him outside so he can climb to the front of the truck. He pauses and turns to me. “Here, catch,” he says, tossing a small white bottle at me.

I catch it, glance over the burn cream label. “Thanks,” I call as I unscrew the cap and dip two fingers into the gel. I feel Katie tense up as I gently spread the cream over her neck. Seconds later she relaxes and falls limp.

Lukshia comes over and drops both collars into a small trashcan. She takes the burn cream from me silently and moves over to the younger girl. Suzie was her stage name and, while I doubt it’s her real one, it is all I have right now. I bend down to gather some of the equipment I’ll need to begin working.

I start by readying a small I.V. bag of sedatives. Veterinary I.V. tubing isn't much different from regular I.V’s so I'm confident that they’ll be fine to use on the girls. Besides, it’s all I have. I hang the I.V. bag on a hook above the table and prep all the tubing. Then I gently lay a hand on Katie’s shoulder. “Alright, I'm going to need your hand, okay?” I keep my voice soft. Though I know she is certainly not an animal in need of soothing, she has been through quite a lot and isn’t aware of who we are. She doesn’t resist me as I take her arm and prop it on a small folded blanket. “It’s going to sting a bit, but I need you to stay still while I put the I.V. in.” The second I say it, the teen tenses and tries to pull her arm away. I tighten my grip on her wrist and rub my thumb over the bridge of her hand. “No, relax. I promise I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to take some x-rays and do some other work. You don’t want to be awake for any of it. It won’t be comfortable. Come on now, settle down and let me work.” I keep hold of her wrist a moment longer before letting go in order to push the I.V tube into her hand. I tape it down and adjust the drip. Then I leave her for a few minutes so I can get an I.V. into Suzie as well. I won’t put her under yet, I’ll do Katie first, but I’d prefer to at least have everything ready for after.

I’m met right away with resistance. Suzie’s fear and obvious lack of trust means that I can’t get near her without her recoiling, chest heaving as she breathes heavily through her nose. Her head darts around, clearly hating not being able to see, and her tail is bunched up against her.

I lean forward and grab her hand, only to have that sapphire limb lash out and smash into my chest, sending me flying backwards to the ground. I groan and pick myself up, cradling my ribs, which are probably bruised.

“Are you alright?” Lukshia demands.

I wave a hand. “Fine,” I answer through grit teeth. “Occupational hazard. I'm going to try again, but I may need you to hold her down.”

Lukshia nods, her hazel eyes full of concern. “Just say the word.”

I take a deep breath and approach the frightened child once more. “Alright you, you got your hit in and it was a good one. Now I need you to calm down. I’m not going to hurt you; I’m trying to help. Just relax,” I whisper in as soothing a voice as I can manage.

Suzie presses herself further into the wall and snorts, her lip curling around her gag to reveal wicked fangs. A muffled hiss sounds from her throat.

I hesitate in front of the child, not willing to get in range of that tail again. Lukshia, however, needs no prompting as she strides forward and takes a hold of the girl’s arms. Instantly Suzie freaks, thrashing and twisting in Lukshia’s grip, but the woman doesn’t falter as she bear-hugs the girl and keeps the tail still. I ease the frightened child’s hand free from its spot pressed against her stomach, and push the I.V. tube in quickly. “Keep a hold of her,” I request. “I don’t want her trying to pull the tube out so I’m going to tape it and put some medical mitts on her so she can’t use her hands.

Lukshia nods and tightens her grip on the shaking child. The poor girl’s chest is heaving and she’s straining frantically to get away from Lukshia.

I duck down and pull out a pair of medical mitts, thankful that I thought to bring them. Normally they are meant for sea otters and seals, but they’ll still fit and serve the same purpose, so, starting with the I.V. hand, I press each of Suzie’s hands into the mitts and tighten the child lock. Then I tape the tube along the back of the girl’s arm, just in case. When I move away, Lukshia loosens her grip and sets Suzie back down on the table.

The second she’s free, the child scoots back to press herself against the wall again, her tail curling against her chest. She lifts her arm and runs her other hand futilely over the tube a few times before she lets her arm drop. Her shoulders slump forward and her head bows, allowing some of her long brown hair to fall into her face. She looks thoroughly defeated and miserable, and I begin to feel terrible.

It’s Lukshia that steps forward though. I watch my friend lean in and give the child a tight hug, one hand moving to smooth down her hair. “It’s alright honey. I know you’re scared now and that you don’t trust us, but you’ll see. Everything is going to be all right. We aren’t going to hurt you and we aren’t going to let anyone else hurt you either, ever again,” Lukshia says, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

If Suzie heard her, she gives no indication of it and instead squirms until Lukshia reluctantly releases her again and then she immediately returns to her fetal position.

“Just leave her,” I say to my forlorn looking friend. “She’s just scared and stressed right now. She’ll come around when she’s ready. I’m going to get to work now. Maybe you could see if you can get her to eat something. Don’t force her if she doesn’t want it, but it might be a nice distraction for her,” I suggest.

Lukshia smiles and nods. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, though…” she pauses. “What on earth do you think they can eat? I have a bunch of frozen seafood stored away, but I didn’t even consider what sort of dietary restrictions they might have.”

I take her arm and pull her off to the side. No need to alarm Susie or make her feel like some sort of wild animal that we want to tame. “Look, I imagine that they’re probably fed fish, but I don’t want to just hand her one and leave it at that. You might as well collar her and call her the family pet at that point,” I say

Lukshia nods. “You want to turn this into a trust exercise,” she acknowledges. “I agree; it’s not going so well with that girl. Olivia, she has an animalistic way about her. I think she’s started to believe them that she’s a fish. Which means she’s probably been there a long time. Much longer than Katie.”

“That’s weird,” I say. “I agree with you, but why is that the case? Why wait so long to turn another girl and get an exhibit going?”

“I have no idea,” Lukshia admits. “But let’s not worry about it right this second. Let’s focus on that trust exercise. What did you have in mind?”

“Feed her,” I reply with a shrug. “Food can have a powerful effect on mentality, especially in a case like this. If she sees you as a food source, as something good and necessary, then-”

“Then she’ll be more likely to trust us more quickly,” Lukshia finishes. “Alright.”

“Just cut up a fish into tiny pieces. That or blend it. Mix it with something, shrimp or clams, seaweed even, and feed it to her with a spoon. Don’t let her do it, not right now anyways.” I sigh and run a hand through my frizzing hair. “I use this sort of exercise on touchy sea lions,” I state. “The fact that I'm now suggesting we use it on a young girl… the fact that it’s probably necessary, that that’s how frayed her mentality is… it’s awful.”

Lukshia nods in agreement. “Yeah, it is. But we’re going to fix it. We’re going to get them to safety. Once we’re back at the marine park, you can remove their blindfolds and draw that conditioning out of them. You’re going to reunite a teenager with her mother, and they’re going to find this girl’s family too. And if they can’t be found… at least you’re sending her somewhere where she’ll be loved, right? Let’s just focus on the task at hand for now. You need to get those x-rays and remove microchips if necessary.”

“Alright,” I agree, steeling my emotions. “You’re right. Let’s get to work.”


	27. The Pit-Stop

**Katie**

I shift uncomfortably on the metal examination table, dreading what I know is coming next. The blindfold has been removed, but I still can’t see due to the waterproof tape that has been spread over my eyelids, holding them shut. When they first put it on, they’ve just replaced my blindfold over top, likely to keep me from peeling the itchy tape off. A hand pushes my shoulder in a clear encouragement for me to lie down. I shake my head and try to shift away, not willing to go through this again.

 I’m pushed over and rolled onto my back. Restraints are tightened over my wrists, these one’s softer than the thick leather of the facility, but still a control mechanism that I’m beginning to hate. I tug against them, lash my tail.

“Settle down.” I’m ordered. “You're okay. I know it hurts, but this is the last time, sweetheart, I promise.” The one woman says.

“The last of a lot of things. The last treatment, the last day in this trailer, and the last time you have to sit on that table or in the cramped little tank,” the other woman adds. I frown, still aggravated that her voice sounds familiar, but I can’t seem to place where from.

“Now stay still,” the first woman says in a soft tone seconds before the needle slides in to the flesh of my cheek. I wince, tense, but know better than to pull away. Within moments, my face feels numb and cold. I gulp nervously, my fingers clenching into fists in preparation of what’s to come. Despite the numbness of my face, I can still feel the intense heat and the flash of pain that follows causes me to jerk reflexively. “I know, I know, just try to relax. You’re a brave girl, you can get through this.”

The process continues and my breathing becomes labored, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. Another sharp flash of pain and then it’s over; the heat doesn’t come again. “There,” the one woman sighs. “Finished.”

“You did a fantastic job, Lukshia,” the other woman states, finally giving me a name to go off of. Still, it isn’t one that rings any bells.

There’s a deep sigh. “So much for cover,” Lukshia answers.

“Sorry,” comes the sheepish reply. “Still, we’ll be there in an hour anyways, right? What difference does it make?”

“Perhaps I’m just being paranoid,” Lukshia agrees. “But we still need to be cautious. Now come on, I want to get the treatment set up. It needs to sit, so we’ll wash it out at the park.”

“I’ll get the bottles,” the other woman decides.

Though far less unpleasant than what I just endured, this next thing has been done before too, and results in me bent over under a running hose in the dirt or grass on the side of the road, if the sounds of cars are anything to go by, after having a nasty smelling liquid rubbed into my scalp. And despite everything, I’ve no idea what they are doing. Changing my appearance, yet again, would make the most sense, but they don’t seem to be doing anything to Luna, thankfully, so I am not certain of their intent. It makes me antsy, not knowing anything like this. We’ve been kept blindfolded and in dark about everything.

I'm startled from my thoughts when my restraints are removed and I'm pushed over onto my stomach with my head positioned over a plastic tub. “Last time,” Lukshia’s voice says. The shocking prickle of cold water over my scalp causes me to suck in a breath. The water drizzles over my head, causing the short locks of hair to plaster to my skin, dripping water over my forehead. A cap snaps open and with a slight oozing noise, the cold gel pools in my hair. Gloved hands press against my head, her nails managing to pinch against my skin through the thin plastic. The goop squelches as it’s pushed through my locks, emitting a foul scent that nearly triggers my gag reflex.

“I certainly won’t miss this stuff,” the second female voice states.

“Smells like bad eggs,” snaps the male that occasionally speaks. “Didn’t take you for a beauty queen, Luks.”

“Get off my case, Allen,” Lukshia warns, her voice suddenly dripping sarcastic venom.

“Now who’s giving away names?” She’s teased by the unknown female case.

“You too, Liv,” Lukshia warns. “Besides, too late now anyways.”

“Would you drop that infuriating nickname already?” Liv retorts. “You know it drove me crazy when we were young.”

“Yes. Which was why I used it. Pass me that plastic bag, will you?” The rustling crinkle of a bag fills the now silent trailer. It’s tugged over my head, the smooth plastic kissing my forehead as it’s tied tightly around my hair, causing the roots to pinch as they’re pulled taunt away from my scalp. “There. Johnson, what’s our ETA?”

There’s the cackling buzz of a radio coming on and then a grainy voice sound through it. “About ten minutes.”

“Perfect,” Lukshia says. “Be sure to pull in through the back entrance. Use the codes I gave you.”

“Thank goodness,” Liv sighs. “I don’t think I could stand to be in this damned trailer any longer. It’s making me edgy and a little crabby.”

“Agreed,” Allen states. “This mission has been all stress, no action, and is beginning to feel like babysitting.”

I shift on the table, the bag over my hair crinkling noisily as I move. I want to at least go back in the water with Luna. The tank may be tiny and made of noisy metal that echoes if it is so much as tapped, but at least the water is pleasantly cool against my scales that dry out fast in this stuffy trailer.

“Soon,” Lukshia promises me. I am pretty sure it is her hand that runs over my tail. She clucks her tongue. “Liv, you think it’s normal for the scales to dry out this fast? Is it going to hurt her?”

“It’s just dry in here,” Liv replies. “If we’re arriving in a few minutes, then she’s okay there. In fact, let’s get them both ready now.”

Feet scuff against the ground, then the sounds of a struggle ensue. A sharp hiss rings through the trailer, followed by furious splashing. Several water droplets shower over my face and body, drumming against the plastic bag on my head. Another hiss leaves my friend’s throat, followed by a grunt by someone else.

“You are being a little ridiculous,” Liv scolds. “No one wants to hurt you, sweetie, I promise.”

The metal table rings as it is smacked and I wince, knowing it was likely Luna’s tail. Her heavy breathing is noisy in the small, echo prone confines of the trailer.

“You got her?” Lukshia asks.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Liv replies. “I’ve started to see a pattern in her antics. We’re good here.”

“Alright.” A hand rubs over my arm, tightening over my bicep and tugging. “Come on, sit up,” Lukshia encourages. I comply, and then stretch out, pulling my arms taught above my head and yawning widely. My shoulder is squeezed. “I noticed you didn’t get much sleep last night,” Lukshia whispers. “Don’t worry; you’ll get to sleep soon.”

Her words fail to reassure me, but I'm not given a chance to ponder it as the truck lurches to a stop, nearly flinging me from the table. A hand is braced against my chest scales, helping to steady me. A thin sheet is draped across my shoulders and then I’m lifted from the table and practically swaddled in the blanket, before being set into a wooden crate. My fin scrapes against the side boards and I have to curl it as I’m pushed back into the box. The lid scuffs loudly as it is placed over top and clamped on. My heartbeat steadily grows more rapid and bile rises in my throat. It feels like a ‘moment of truth’ sort of moment, as we’re finally ferried from the trailer; rolled down a ramp and unloaded. Hopefully we’ll get to see the faces of our rescuers or captors, depending on which will be more fitting.

“You got them?” a new male voice inquires seconds after a door is pulled shut, slammed slightly; likely in hast.

“Yeah,” comes Liv’s breathless reply.

“Allen, go with Dustin and take the younger girl to whatever’s been set up. We still need to wash the stuff out. Is there a bathroom or supply room with a sink we can use?” Lukshia inquires in an authoritative tone.

“Yes,” Liv replies. “Come on, I’ll show you the closest spot.”

Then we are moving again. The wheels of the rolling crate squeak on the tiles, grating in my ears, and my heart clenches as Lukshia’s words sink in. Luna and I are being separated. I can only hope that it won't be for long and that they won’t hurt her in the meantime.

The crate lurches as it stops, my scales sliding in the sheet as it does. The lid is snapped off and I’m lifted up and onto the cool surface of a countertop. “Alright, last time for this too, I promise. Lie down now.” A hand is planted between my shoulder blades and I’m pushed onto my stomach with my head hanging into the basin of a sink. The bag is pulled from my head and my hair bundled over my face in the sink. The faucet squeals as it’s turned and water begins to rush out over my hair. Fingers massage at my scalp, pushing and pulling at my hair while the lukewarm water runs. If not for the foul stench of whatever is in my hair and the water running slimy with it dripping over my eyes and nose, the sensation might not be unpleasant. I cough a little, wrinkle my noise in an effort not to sneeze, and try to sip air slowly to keep from inhaling any water. “Almost done,” Lukshia says. “Just another couple of seconds.”

True to her word, heartbeats later the stream of water slows and I’m allowed to sit up. A towel brushes against my forehead and the back of my neck as my hair is toweled dry. “There.” A finger lifts my chin a little. “What do you think?”

“Perfect,” Liv replies. “You’ve done a fantastic job. You are going to let us take the tape off her eyes now right?”

“Yes,” Lukshia agrees. “To be completely honest, it wasn’t entirely about security that I insisted they remain blindfolded. It’s to make this moment a little bit more, well, special, relieving, you know what I mean,” the woman fumbles.

“Yes, I do. Ready, sweetie. Keep your eyes closed, let me get both pieces off first,” Liv’s words are directed at me as her fingers brush the corner of my eye, pulling up the corner of the tape. It’s pulled slowly and gently from my eyelid, tugging free with a slight popping noise. The next piece quickly follows. “Okay. Careful though, it’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen anything but the inside of your eyelids. Don’t strain your eyes.”

I bring my hands up to rub my eyes, slowly cracking them open and squeezing them shut once more when light bombards my vision, leaving swarming dots dancing behind my eyelids. After a moment, I reopen them, blinking rapidly until my vision clears. The first thing that comes into view is one of the women. “Can you see okay?” she asks, her voice allowing me to label her as Lukshia.

I take a moment to observe her. Long black hair is pulled into a tight braid, a black top and pair of black tights hug earthy colored skin, and her hazel eyes gleam with a dangerous, mischievous attitude, but also with an openhearted friendliness.

“Katie.” I stiffen at the sound of my name, my real name, spoken by someone besides Elizabeth. “Can you see okay?” The repeated question fails to dawn on me as my brain slowly continues to realize that someone knows me, recognizes me. “Katie?” My name is repeated with a laugh and my head whips towards the speaker, my eyes definitely widened. The wavy blonde hair and soft brown eyes framed by light blue glasses spark a recognition in my brain almost instantly, although it still takes me a moment to realize exactly who I am looking at.

“Olivia,” I breathe, uttering my first word since the break out. My eyebrows furrow. “Lewis’s friend.”

She laughs again. “Yes. Honey are you alright?”

I nod. “Uh, yeah, I guess. It’s just been a while since someone, well…”

“Used your name?” Lukshia offers.

I shake my head. “No, since someone who actually knows me has used it. Since I-” I glance around, half laugh half sob. “Since I’ve been in a bathroom, since I’ve been out of that place. I-” I break off as a sob lodges in my throat and tears well in my eyes.

“Oh, don’t cry, it’s okay,” Lukshia says as she pulls me against her and embraces me tightly. “You're safe, Katie.”

“Why don’t you take a look in the mirror,” Olivia suggests in a soft tone.

“In the mirror? Why?” I ask as I spin around and catch a glimpse of my reflection. Every muscle in my body tenses up, my lips parting slightly as I see my face starring back at me. My face, not the face of Bailey. Red and bruised across my cheeks, my hair still short but returned to its proper color, and my skin pleasantly freckle-less. Tears water up in my eyes all over again.

Olivia puts a hand on my shoulder. “We haven’t figured out how to fix the, uh, well the tail yet, but as for the rest of it; it’s over. You’re safe and you're never going back. And we will out how to fix everything else.”

“You can’t fix it,” I sigh. “It’s pretty permanent.”

“You don’t know that,” Olivia argues. “They could have just told you that to make you think that there was no going back.”

“No. I endured the procedure, I know. It’s permanent.” I shift my tail, bring the fin into view, and stare at the curling tips. “It’s okay,” I decide. “It’s actually not so bad.”

“Well, I still want to look into it. Katie, you look exhausted so we should get you and your friend settled for now, but we need to talk later. In depth. You need to tell us what happened in that facility, okay? Then we’ll go over the plan with you.”

“I’m okay,” I argue. “I’d rather talk now. I want to know what’s going on. How did you know I was there? Who else knows? When can I go-”

Olivia holds up a hand, silencing the tirade of questions streaming from my mouth. “Not right now. You need to rest and we need still have things to take care of. I promise you’ll get your answers, but you need to hold on to those questions a little longer, okay?”

I sigh and nod reluctantly. “Just answer me one thing,” I beg. “Sophie?”

“As far as I know, she’s alright. It’s been rough on her, but she’s pulling through. As for this, she doesn’t know. We didn’t want to involve her because she wouldn’t be able to help. She’s going to be the first person they suspect in this break out. There had to be no links between her and us.”

I sniff and rub at my nose, lick my lips. “I miss her.” Lukshia and Olivia don’t bother offering up a response.

After a moment of silence, Lukshia clears her throat. “Katie, can you sit on your tail? I mean by curling it under you, like a child might sit on their knees?”

“Mhm. Why?”

She moves out of view and brings a wheelchair back into view. Fastened to the footrest is a pair of shoes filled with plastic legs that go up a few feet and taper off. “To keep it out of view. We’re going to have to keep a blanket covering everything, but this should allow you some motility and this way, no one’s asking questions.”

“Wow, you really thought of everything,” I comment.

“Well, we had to,” Olivia points out. She wraps an arm around my waist and scoops up my tail before setting me down in the chair. I shift so my tail is folded underneath me with my fin fanning out against my spine. Lukshia unfolds a thick blanket and tucks it around my tail until everything is hidden. Then I’m handed a folded brown shirt.

The material is soft and the t-shirt is plain, no wording or design. I eagerly tug it on, only to find it almost irritating against skin and scale that’s been bare for months.

“Here, I’ll wheel you out for now and we’ll teach you how to use it properly later, alright?” Lukshia says.

I shake my head, hands moving to grip the back of the rims. “I know how to use it,” I reply. “A few years ago, I was helping Lewis unload a truck. Took more than I could carry, dropped the crate, and broke both feet in one go. I had to use a chair for a month.”

“Oh, well, that makes things easier. Go ahead then.”

“Just give me a minute,” I request. “It has been a little while.” Pushing the rims, I slowly move forwards and manage to maneuver out the door without bumping anything. The halls are tiled in smooth faint blue diamond patterned tiles and the walls are papered in a soft green. The rich smell of salt water lingers in the brightly lit halls, making tears water in my eyes. It smells like home.

Lukshia and Olivia walk by me and I'm spurred into motion, pushing the wheels so I’m rolling beside them at a comfortable pace.

“Okay, I’m going to go regroup with the team,” Lukshia decides. “We’ll get the truck out of here and cover our tracks. I’ll meet up with you tomorrow and we’ll work out some details.”

“Alright,” Olivia agrees. I watch her pause to hug the other woman tightly. “Thank you for all of your help. I really appreciate it.”

“Hey, anything for my childhood best friend. Just stay out of trouble; don’t attract any attention to yourselves, alright?”

“Will do,” Olivia promises.

“Thank you,” I pipe up. “For getting us out of there. You have no idea how much in means.”

Lukshia bends down so that we can be at eye level. She offers me a smile. “Don’t mention it. Just stay out of trouble, okay? Be safe.”

I lean forward and hug her, tightening my muscles as I squeeze her as much as possible.

Lukshia laughs, but hugs me back, very nearly crushing me in a fierce embrace. Instantly my muscles fall slack, and I melt into her hold for a few wondrous heartbeats where I can feel warm and safe without being yanked back into a terrifying reality.

I sigh softly when she gently untangles herself from me.

Lukshia waves to Olivia and then turns and walks away further down the hall, the clack of her heeled boots echoing in the empty hallway.

“Come on you,” Olivia says as she rounds the corner and pulls open a door, holding it for me. I twist the chair around and roll through the open doorway.

It leads to a spacious office. One wall is filled by three large filing cabinets, while a large desk takes the center floor. A small fish tank and a potted tree, along with some paintings, decorate the room painted a creamy color that reminds me of the inside of a clam’s shell. I allow my eyes to wander, find my attention focusing in on the small fish tank. Tiny, tropical saltwater fish swim in out of the small castle and skull decorations. Black and white pebbles line the bottom and the filter bubbles noisily, my sensitive hearing picking in up clearly from across the room. A decent sized starfish grips the front panel of glass, its six limbs splayed, one a twisted stub far shorter than the other arms. Luna’s starfish was left in the other tank and I begin to wonder if they would let her have this one in replacement since she seems to love them so much.

“Leave my fish alone. If you’re hungry, we’ll get you something from the kitchen. Those are not for consumption.” The tone is light, but still startles me and my head whips towards the front of the room and the owner of the new voice. His lips are twisted into a teasing grin and his dark eyes shine from behind a pair of black glasses. Scruffy black hair is sits atop his head, and he’s wearing a loose gray collar shirt with a black tie.

I blush slightly and shake my head. “No, I wasn’t wanting to eat them, I swear. They just caught my eye is all,” I defend. I chew my bottom lip. “Um, so who are you?”

“Katie, this is Dustin; he manages the park and got everything here set up for the two of you,” Olivia introduces. “Dustin, meet Katie.”

“Hi,” I offer, giving him a small wave and moving closer to the desk.

Dustin smiles and extends a hand across the wooden surface. I take it in turn. “It’s nice to meet you Katie,” Dustin replies. “We’ve been pretty concerned about you the past month.”

“Month?” I ask.

“It took a while to get things organized to bust you out. We’ve known for about a month.”

“Oh. I suppose that makes sense. I don’t know why I figured it was a spur of the moment thing,” I state with a frown. “My brain isn't operating properly at the moment. I haven’t really been expected to do a lot of thinking lately,” I admit.

“It’s okay,” Dustin replies. “You’ll have plenty of time to ease back into a proper lifestyle. For now, do you have any questions? We haven’t worked out all the details of a game plan yet, but I’ll do my best at answering.”

“How did you know?” I find the question tumbling from my mouth before I’ve even processed it.

“Dustin was interested in the mermaid craze that the exhibit caused. He was considering hiring someone to dress up here at the park to draw some attention. When I saw a picture, it just didn’t look right and reminded me of you. We began to realize how nicely the events of your death and the exhibit’s opening lined up and then realized exactly who you were,” Olivia explains. “We figured that the other girl is in the same situation. Do you have any idea where she’s from?”

“As far as I know; the ocean,” I say. “She’s not like me. She’s the real thing. But that doesn’t mean she should be locked up,” my tone turns dark. “She’s fully fluent in English and no different from us.”

Dustin holds up his hands. “Katie, I’ve no intention of abusing that child. If you’re right, then we’re going to have a hell of a time locating her family, but we’ll figure it out. Now, is there any chance that she’s just been told that? Led to believe that she’s a fish in an effort to better control her?”

“I don’t think so,” I say, bringing a fist up to rub at my eye as I attempt to swallow a yawn.

“Well, we can discuss it later,” Dustin decides. “It’s a little early for bed, but definitely late enough to warrant supper. Olivia, take the poor girl and get her settled with something to eat. Katie, we’ve made accommodations for the two of you and while you’re free to do as you will, you're not a prisoner; I do request that you remain in your room. It’s spacious enough to keep you both comfortable, but very few people know you are here and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

I nod. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Here.” Olivia moves behind me and pulls the wheelchair around. “”Just relax. We have a ways to go.”

“I thought that you didn’t want to risk anyone seeing me,” I say as we leave the office.

“The park is closed today,” Olivia replies. “And any mandatory staff has gone home by now. I’m clocking a few extra hours stocking medications.”

“What?”

“Oh, false alibi. Just in case,” she explains. She pushes us down the hall and out of the building into the setting sun.

“Wait!” I stop her.

“What’s wrong?” Olivia asks, the wheelchair lurching to a halt.

“Nothing,” I whisper, tilting my nose towards the sun. “It has just been far too long since I’ve been outside. I want to enjoy it for a moment.”

“Well enjoy it as we walk,” Olivia replies, pushing the chair into motion once more.

A slight breeze picks up, tossing my drying hair about. “So how did you get it back to normal?” I ask, twirling a lock of it.

“Well, Lukshia got a bottle of hair dye remover,” Olivia says. “It’s about to hit the markets, so I'm not sure how she got it so early, but I tend not to ask. Anyways, you bleach the dyed hair and then apply three separate doses of the stuff. It’s supposed to draw the natural pigment out from the roots, but I'm not fully sure how it works. And I imagine you already know how the freckle tattoos were removed.”

I nod. “Yes. That was painful. But at least now I can safely say I'm never getting a tattoo…well, again, I guess.”

“Mhm,” Olivia agrees as we approach the far staff building of the marine park. She pauses to pull open the door before she resumes pushing the chair along. “So, you really think that she’s an actual mermaid?”

“Mer,” I correct, remembering Luna’s insistence about the terminology. “And I shouldn’t have said anything to that man. Perhaps not to you either.”

“Hey,” Olivia protests. “I can understand your unease with Dustin, since you just met him, but what did I do? I know you don’t see me often, but have I ever struck you as untrustworthy?”

“I guess not,” I concede.

“Well, you can relax then. I just want to see you both home safely. And Dustin, while a business man, has a huge heart. I’ve known him for a long time and he would never do anything at the expense of a child, human or otherwise.”

She pulls us to a stop in front of an elevator and presses the button. I fall silent and glance around. The hallways of this building are similar in design, with the same tiled floors and evenly spaced lights, but the walls are decorated in a sea themed wallpaper coated in shells, starfish, and assorted tropical reef fish.

I brush my fingers along the design of a creamy conch shell, tracing the spikes and grooves on its surface.

For a few seconds, the silence is pleasant, before the sharp ‘ding’ of the elevator breaks it and the doors slide open. Olivia remains quiet as she pushes me in and presses the highest button and swipes a clearance card. The doors slut shut with a gentle hiss and then the elevator lurches into motion. It dings up two floors before jolting to a halt and reopening the doors.

They open to reveal a wide corridor that is dimly lit and filled with stacked boxes and crates shoved up against both walls over old, wooden panelling. Everything is covered in a fine layer of dust that itches at my nose, and cobwebs hang from every available corner and rafter.

“Uh, this place is kinda creepy,” I whisper.

“It is just an attic,” Olivia replies. “It’s fully functional. It was designed to be a quarantine floor, for severe rescues, illness outbreaks, and critical projects or studies, but then we ended up having the twin building built and had no need for this place. Until we opened up one of the rooms for you two, no one came up here except the security guard and once a year, an exterminator scopes the place for infestation. We’ve never had anything worse than a couple of mice. It’s a good spot to keep the two of you than likely won’t be found in case any parks on the coast are routine checked after the break out.”

“Makes sense,” I agree. I lean back in the chair as Olivia pushes it down the long hall. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do it? I can keep up with you.”

Olivia reaches down and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Just relax. You’ve been through enough lately. Let us worry about things for a bit, okay?”

“I’m not worried. I just want to gain some independence back,” I admit.

“You will,” Olivia promises. “I know it’s been rough on you, I can only imagine what you’ve been through, but for now; I just want to get you settled for the night, okay?” She moves in front of me and twists the handle to an old wooden door. The inside room is brightly lit and warm. The walls are painted a soft, ocean blue color and the floors are made of sandalwood boards. What catches my eye the most is the massive, deck-like wooden platform a raised several feet off the floor and is reachable by a smooth, ramp that looks rather easy to wheel the wheelchair up. Connected to the platform is a pool. Not a tank but what looks like a swimming pool. As Olivia pushes the chair up the ramp, I get a proper look at my new living quarters. Two mattresses rest on the platform, which is actually coated in spongy green mats. Both are neatly made with comforters and pillows. I notice the plastic sheets rather than fabric ones, but considering the salt water, it makes sense. But my attention is drawn to Luna, curled up on the edge of the platform, her wet hair plastered down her back and her eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. As we get close, she shrinks back, looking ready to bolt, and bares her fangs, hissing sharply.

I jerk back a little at the same time that Olivia sighs. “I am really getting sick of putting up with this behavior,” she scolds. “Now you stop that; no one has done anything to warrant it.”

I place a hand on Olivia’s arm and shake my head. No one is getting through to Luna like that. I push the chair forward to get closer to her and the reaction is surprising. She shrinks back further, bracing herself to dive, and offers me another hiss. Aside from the time that she was blinded, I’ve never been hissed at before; it is a little terrifying and I'm not sure what I’ve done to be on the receiving end.

It takes me a moment to realize the problem and the second I do, I reach out towards her, ready to reassure her. The motions seems to be the final straw and she spooks, twisting away and diving into the water.

I sigh and dive after her, shoving off from the seat of the chair and making the jump into the water. I tackle the fleeing Mer into a hug, one that causes her to thrash violently in.

“Luna!” I exclaim. “Calm down, it’s just me.”

At my words, she falters and relaxes slightly, turning to face me with furrowed eyebrows and slightly parted lips. ‘Katie?’ she mouths my name.

I nod. “Yeah, Luna, it’s me,” I confirm.

‘You do not look like-”

“Do you know many other purple tailed girls that sound like me?” I counter, interrupting her.

‘No.’

“Exactly.” I drape my arm across her shoulder. “You remember I told you that Dr. Auldon had my appearance altered right?”

‘Yes, I remember,’ Luna replies with a nod of her head.

“Well, they fixed that. This is what I looked like before. What I really look like,” I tell her. “Well, my hair was longer, but that’s beside the point.”

Luna tilts her head, wide blue eyes fixed on me. ‘I am sorry that I hissed at you.’

“It’s okay Luna, no harm done. I know how you are around strangers and I should have been expected it. You okay?”

She nods her head and then begins to shake it. ‘I am scared.’

I respond instantly by tugging her into a hug. I wrap my arms around her torso and squeeze tightly, trying to make her feel a little safer and calmer. I think it works; she relaxes a little and wraps her arms around me in return, resting her head on my collarbone. “We’re going to be okay, I promise.”

‘We do not know these people,’ she states once she moves away. ‘What if they are as bad as the scientists? What if they are worse?’

“Do you really think anyone could be worse than those bastards?” I counter. “Besides, I do know these people. Not well or anything and… actually, it’s only Olivia I actually know, but I'm confident that she doesn’t want to hurt us.”

‘Are you sure?’

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure. Look Luna, let’s just give them a chance before we get defensive okay? They did go through the trouble of breaking us out of that place.”

‘I guess,’ Luna relents.

“Okay. Let’s go back up there; I want to find out the plan, and hopefully get some food.”

Luna nods and after a moment’s hesitation follows me up to the surface. The pool isn't all that deep, about a meter or two, but it’s definitely big enough to be comfortable for both of us to swim in.

I shake water droplets from my eyes as I break the surface and my hands sink into the soft foam of the mats as I haul myself out of the water. Luna doesn’t leave the water, but instead leans her elbows against the mats and rests her chin on her arms.

“Everything okay?” Olivia asks.

I nod. “Yeah, everything is fine, sorry about that. Olivia, this is Luna,” I introduce.

Olivia smiles and moves to sit cross-legged in front of us. “Hi,” she greets.

Luna lifts her hand and waves her fingers a little.

“Are you okay?” Olivia presses. “You’ve been very stressed, stubborn, I'm guessing terrified, and a little angry the past few weeks.”

Luna shrugs, shifts a little, and stares down at the little pool of water forming on the mat.

Silence lapses and Olivia glances at me with furrowed eyebrows. “Did I say something wrong?”

Luna glances up, rubs her arms, and very visibly hesitates.

“No,” I say, responding to Olivia’s question. “Luna’s just a little shy.”

“Oh. Sorry, sweetie, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.” `After a moment, when Luna offers no reply, Olivia turns her attention to me. “I’m going to go down and get you something to eat. It won’t be anything grand it’s getting late and we need to start closing up; so I was just going to boil some fish and a few vegetables into a soup. Do you feel up to anything more? Some fruit maybe?”

I shrug. “Whatever is fine; to be honest, I just want to sleep.”

“I figured as much, it looked like you two had a rough night. I can imagine too, that road was pretty bumpy and that tank made a lot of noise and seemed to jolt you around.”

A yawn parts my lips and I nod. “Yeah, pretty much sums it up,” I agree.

“Well, I’ll go get on that then. Is there anything else you need tonight?”

I shake my head. “I think we’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Well, it’ll probably be about an hour before the food is ready. If you happen to fall asleep before then, I’ll leave it on a little heater and you can help yourselves when you wake up, okay?”

I yawn again and bring a fisted hand up to rub at my eyes and nose. “Yeah, thank you,” I respond. “For everything.”

Olivia smiles. “You're welcome. It’s just good to know that you're okay now. I'll be back in an hour, alright?”

I bid her goodbye and watch her turn and leave. The lighting in the room is dim, the pool pretty dark, but would still enough to see in comfortably even if I couldn’t see in the dark.

“You were quiet,” I comment to my friend, who still has her head lowered and is tracing designs in the pools of water on the mat.

She shrugs. ‘I am not comfortable telling her about sign language,’ she admits.

I sigh and shake my head as I drape an arm around her shoulders and tug her closer. “I know that it has been a rough go and I acknowledge you trust issues, but Luna, you're going to have to relax a little. Olivia is just trying to help us. I’m not saying you have to give her your life’s story, or trust her to have your back, but you can at least talk to her and acknowledge her presence. It’s only polite that you do,” I state, trying not to sound too lecturing.

‘I guess so,’ she responds.

“Look, don’t worry about it right now. It’s been a long day, so how about we get settled and wait for food,” I suggest.

Luna nods and raises an arm, finger extended to point at the mattresses. ‘What are those?’

“Those are beds,” I tell her. “You sleep on them. They’re really soft and warm.”

‘Oh.’ She pulls herself from the water to reach out and press a palm into the one. ‘I have never slept out of the water before, aside from when they left me strapped to a table for days.’

“Would you like to try it?” I ask. “The water is right there if you decide you don’t like it.”

Luna nods in agreement and tugs herself up onto one of the mattresses. I climb up onto the other one and slip beneath the covers.

After a moment of watching me with wide eyes and a tilted head, Luna mimics my actions and slips her tail beneath the thick pink, green, and purple patchwork blanket. She shifts slightly and then rolls onto her stomach. ‘You are right. It is very warm,’ she comments.

I nod in agreement and roll onto my side, letting my head rest against the pillow and allowing a yawn to part my jaws. “Yup,” I murmur lazily. “That they are.”

 

 **I’m** pulled from sleep groggily as I sit up and squint, staring around the darkened room as I try to determine what woke me. I nearly jump from my skin as something beside me moves. Turning to look, I relax when I see Luna curled up against me. She’s opened her eyes and lifted her head, but otherwise remained lying down.

‘Everything okay?’ she asks as she yawns widely.

“Yeah,” I reply. “How come you're over here? Is there something wrong with your bed?” I ask.

Luna nods hesitantly, but doesn’t elaborate until I raise an eyebrow and poke her gently. ‘It is over there,’ she states.

“And?”

‘It is over there and you are over here. It made me feel like when I was by myself, before you came. I got lonely,’ she admits.

I can’t help but smile and give her a sideways hug. “I haven’t gone anywhere,” I say. “But you can stay over here if you like.” I refuse to admit that I had secretly felt lonely myself.

Luna blows out a soft breath and smiles. She doesn’t say anything more as she curls up tighter against me and lowers her head back down to the mattress. I do the same, feeling, for the millionth time, grateful that I’ve not been alone through all of this.


	28. A Heart-Wrenching Departure

**Sophie**

I chew my lip as I sit in the chair beside Riley’s bed and watch as Lewis snips through the last of the bandages, pulling them free and allowing them to flutter to the floor in a small pile to be swept up later.

“It feels a little strange to have that thing off after so long,” Riley comments as she shifts on the mattress and indicates to the support belt dangling over the rail of the bed. The other is still wrapped tightly around her ribs, but is due to come off in a few minutes.

“Well, how does your hip feel?” I press. “Any pain at all?”

Riley quirks an eyebrow. “I have not felt any pain the past couple of days, you know that,” she replies.

“I'm just making sure,” I say. “I don’t want to send you out there if you haven’t fully healed.”

“And really, you can understand our concern,” Lewis pipes up. “It has only been a little over a month and you seem fully healed. I wouldn’t have expected to be giving you the okay for at least another month or two. Your healing rate is phenomenal and unbelievable.”

Riley snorts and waves a hand. “It is no big deal. I have always healed fast; I have had to in order to survive.”

“You say that as though you have control over it,” Lewis states.

Riley grins, flashing her fangs, and shrugs. “That would be ridiculous Lewis,” she scoffs, winking.

“Riley, stop teasing Lewis,” I scold, smothering a laugh.

She rolls her eyes and tucks one of her bangs back behind her ear; a pointless action because it merely falls back into place, brushing against her chin the second she moves her hand away. “Of course I have no control over it; it has just been very helpful in keeping me alive. It has always been pointed out that I tend to heal more rapidly than most, but I have no idea why it is that way and I certainly have no control over it.”

“Put your arms up,” Lewis orders. Riley lifts her arms in the air and rests them on her skull as Lewis begins to poke at the support belt around her ribs. “Take a deep breath,” he instructs. I watch Riley’s chest expand within the restraint of the belt as she complies with Lewis’s request. “Alright, breathe out now.” Moving behind her, Lewis fiddles with the belt. With a loud snap, it opens and he tugs it away from her body.

Riley brings her arms up to hug her chest. “It feels good,” she practically purrs. “To breathe freely, without pain or restraint.” A heavy sigh escapes her and she pushes forward, curling her tail up under her.

“Well, I’m glad you're no longer in any pain, but I want to take you for some x-rays, just to be sure that you’ve healed fully,” Lewis decides.

Riley sighs and rolls her eyes once more. “Must I? You have already done those before.”

“Riley, that was weeks ago,” Lewis protests.

“Besides,” I add. “You lie on a bed, nothing new, only difference is that pictures are taken.”

“Traitor,” she growls. “How come you are taking his side?”

“She’s dating me,” Lewis answers, rather gleefully.

“That has absolutely nothing to do with it,” I retort. “I just want to make sure that Riley heals okay. Riley, honey, just do the x-rays; make the puppy happy. Otherwise he’ll whimper to me about it all night long.”

“He is a little whiney,” Riley agrees with a laugh.

“And standing right here,” Lewis grumbles. “I don’t know why I'm bothering with you two; I only wind up being insulted.”

“Oh, you know we love you,” I say. I cup the far side of his face and tug him closer to plant a kiss on his stubble covered cheek. “And Riley is going to get the x-rays done, right Riley?”

The teen flicks her tailfins out and forces a smile. “Of course. But only if they are done quickly and I can get up out of this bed right away after,” she bargains.

“The only reason they took so long last time was because you wouldn’t stop fidgeting,” I point out.

“And no more making faces and shifting out of position right before the picture is taken,” Lewis adds. “You know that doesn’t help. Just sit still for five minutes. Think you can handle that?”

Riley tilts her head towards Lewis; her eyes narrowed, eyebrows raised, and she lashes her tailfins. “Of course,” she counters. “Honestly Lewis, why you have so little faith in me, I will never know. What did I ever do to you that would make it so difficult to trust me?” Riley’s tongue pokes out between her teeth as she teases the sea vet.

“You pipe down,” he warns. “Before I decide I want to run some tests and take some blood samples too.”

“Break it up you two,” I intervene. “Lewis, just do your x-rays and be done with it. Riley, don’t be bothersome. Just do as you're told and it will be over quickly. Then we can take you outside.”

Riley’s eyes brighten at my words, the start of a smile twitching at her lips. She nods. “Alright,” she agrees, flopping back on the bed. “What are we waiting for then?”

Lewis rolls his eyes and I can’t help but chuckle at her antics. “Bring her back down here when you’ve finished okay?” I request, my attention turning to Lewis. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Alright,” he agrees. “I should only be about ten or fifteen minutes. Then she’s all yours.”

I lean back in my chair as Lewis drapes a sheet over Riley’s body, covering her tail and torso. He tugs the bed into motion, pulling it out into the hall and spinning it around to wheel down the hall to do the x-rays. Once they’re gone, the door clicking shut behind them, my shoulders slump and a sigh escapes me. My heart clenches painfully as I will time to stop. I have grown immensely fond of the willful teen over the past six weeks and I'm far from ready to say goodbye.

 

 **Riley** fidgets in her seat as I tuck a blanket around her tail, fussing with it until I’m certain all of the sandy scales are hidden beneath it. It took some convincing to get her to agree to pull in her extra fins, since they would be awkward to hide. “Put your arms straight up in the air,” I instruct, finally moving away from the blanket. Riley does as asked, lifting her thin but muscled tan arms up above her head. I shake out a simple navy blue shirt; the rescue team logo printed the back and the right chest pocket. I pull it over her head, ignoring her startled grunt at being swallowed by the fabric. I help guide her arms and head through the correct holes and tug it down over her torso, hiding away the prominent scales on her chest.

“This feels strange,” she mutters. “Why do I have to wear it?”

“Because you don’t want to draw attention to yourself,” I reply. “You know that people would not react well to your tail.”

“You did not have a problem with it,” she argues.

“No, you're right, I didn’t, but many people would seek to exploit you. Not to mention the fact that people react differently in different situations and numbers. I met you in a life or death situation; I didn’t have time to think about how to react. Tourists would go nuts, especially in a crowd. Trust me, Riley, you don’t want the attention,” I explain.

“I know,” she agrees. “I just do not like this fabric thing. It itches.”

“You’ll get used to it,” I decide. “Are you ready?”

Her eyes shine with excitement. “Yes,” she confirms. “Let us go now.”

“Just make sure you keep your tail still, especially your fins,” I remind. “And don’t show anyone your fangs.” I move behind her and grip the handles of the wheelchair, pulled out from the equipment room where we got the recovery bed. Riley rests her elbows on the armrests and continues to fiddle with her shirt. “Just leave it alone,” I tell her. “You’ll forget it’s even there if you don’t think about it.”

Riley sighs as I begin to push the chair down the hall. “I suppose so.”

I continue down the hall, keeping an eye on the girl sitting in front of me. Her head turns left and right ever so slightly as she takes in her surroundings. The lavender walls lack any pictures or anything of interest, but it’s probably new enough to be interesting to the girl born and bred in the outdoors. “How are you feeling?” I ask finally, breaking the silence.

“I am fine,” Riley responds. “Why?”

I shrug, and then remember she can’t actually see me behind her. “I'm just making sure. I know you said that you haven’t been in any pain this week, but this is the first time you’ve actively moved around in over a month. I just want to make sure you aren’t straining yourself.”

“I am fine,” Riley repeats, but her tone has softened. “Just eager to be outside again. I miss the sky and the water.”

“Well, I haven’t been outside yet today, but it’s supposed to be a bright and sunny day,” I say. “So, I know that you are probably eager to take to the ocean, but I’m going to have to ask you to hold off and be patient. I want to know what Lewis thinks of the results of the x-rays. I also want to make sure that you are okay to go, to make sure that your muscles haven’t stiffened from lack of movement. We’ll take you swimming somewhere private today and make sure you won't be hindered out there. If all goes well; you can leave tomorrow.”

Surprisingly, Riley nods. “Okay,” she agrees. “That makes sense. I can wait.”

I frown, having been expecting a fight over it, but don’t comment. We reach the elevator and only wait a few seconds after pushing the button for the doors to slide open.

“What is this thing?” Riley asks as I wheel her inside and press my thumb against the button that will take us to the main floor.

“An elevator,” I reply just as the doors slide closed with a soft huff of air. “It’s for moving up and down floors.”

“Floors?”

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. “Okay, umm, well a floor is what we were just on; a floor of a building. So you know the hall and the rooms and stuff that we passed?”

“Yes.”

“That was a floor. And there is another two above it, each with their own halls and rooms and layouts,” I explain.

“Oh.” Riley tilts her head back to look up. “It won’t collapse on us, will it?”

“That would be very unlikely,” I reply. Riley jumps in her seat when the elevator dings, heartbeats before the doors slide open to reveal the main floor.

Riley leans forward in her seat as I push her out of the elevator. “Wow,” she whispers, her head moving to take in the entirety of the mostly open floor. Large, sliding glass doors lead the way to the outdoors, allowing sunlight to flood into the room. The walls have been painted a bright ocean blue, with massive stencilled orcas, giant squid, stingrays, and sharks, all appearing to glide through the painted ocean coating the walls. A large tough pool sits in the center of the room, home to starfish, sea slugs and snails, horseshoe crabs, and a small, friendly stingray.

An adjacent tank holds white spotted bamboo sharks. The main floor of the research and rescue building is open to guests, so it’s been lavishly decorated with exciting and interactive things for the guests, and their children, to explore. Above our heads is the massive skeleton of a female sperm whale. A large brochure cart sits beside the main help desk, and a gift shop is tucked into the far corner, shelves full of stuffed dolphins, toy sharks, animal animated swimsuits and flutter boards, shells, and jewellery. The games corner is opposite us and the rest of the wall space is taken by glass viewing panels that allow guests to see into the recovery tanks of animals to be released.

“This is really neat,” Riley says. “What is all of this stuff?”

I proceed to take her on a tour of the ground floor, happily explaining and answering all of her demanding questions. Riley drags her fingers lightly over the stencils on the walls as we pass by. She wiggles them in the water of the bamboo shark tank where she coos softly in a language that I couldn’t hope to understand or even imitate; it stirs the sharks into a lively motion, darting around and becoming far more social than I’ve ever seen them.

“Would you be mad if I ate this?” she asks as she hefts one of the larger sea slugs into the air.

“Yes,” I respond. “Put it back.”

Riley grins and shoves the slimy black creature into my face. “Do you want it then?”

“Absolutely not,” I retort. “That’s disgusting. Riley put it back before it dies.”

Riley laughs and tosses her head, hair flying, but gently replaces the slug into the sandy pool.

“Are you getting hungry?” I ask.

Riley shrugs and shakes her head. “No, I am okay,” she replies. “And I did not really wish to eat it; I only wanted to see how you would react.”

I sigh and smack the back of her head, careful to keep the motion soft and teasing. “You are getting to be quite the pain,” I inform her.

“Good,” she counters. “Then I am succeeding. Can we go outside now?”

“I have half a mind to take you back downstairs,” I threaten.

Riley twists in the chair to look up at me, her eyes widened and slightly watery, while her lips part with silent hurt.

My smile slips and I lean forward slightly. “Riley, I was only teasing you, of course we’re going to go out-” I break off as her lips twist into a mocking grin, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she beams happily. “You’re not funny,” I tell her, only to have her begin to laugh hysterically, clutching her stomach, her shoulders shaking and her hair tumbling into her face. Her bubbly laughter echoes through the building and I can’t help but smile at her joy; even if it’s at my expense.

When her fit subsides, I take her towards the entrance and through the sliding doors. A warm breeze picks up, tossing our hair about and bringing the strong scent of brine picked up by the nearby ocean.

I park the wheelchair on the grassy terrain beside the building and sit down beside it, watching Riley’s reaction.

Her eyes close and her chest expands before she sighs heavily. “It has been too long,” she murmurs softly, lifting her nose higher to the sky.

“I was thinking we could go down to the beach for a bit,” I say. “The one just off the park is a no-go spot for tourists because it’s sanctioned off for turtles to lay their eggs. This late in the season, there won't be any eggs to disturb and since our rescue team oversees the area, we have access. I figured you might like to be close to home for a few hours and it would be nice and private.”

“That would be nice,” Riley agrees. “But no, we should not go down.”

“Why not?”

“There is a storm coming,” Riley says, pointing to the sky. I glance up to see storm clouds beginning to gather, dark and ugly. The wind picks up again, bringing the first splatter of raindrops to pepper against my nose and cheeks. “I agree with you that I should not take to open waters without a chance to stretch and swim. A storm is not a good time to be near the shore whether you are in or out of the water.”

“The weather was supposed to be nice!” I protest.

Riley shrugs. “You cannot control a storm,” she points out.

“No, I suppose not,” I relent with a sigh. “Well, I had planned to show you the park and take you to the beach, but we’d better get inside. Why don’t we go see the results of those x-rays? Then we can get a pool set up for you to do some swimming.”

“Alright,” Riley agrees.

I hurry us both back inside just as the sky opens to release a torrent of rain. The wind picks up, begins to howl against the glass doors, and the rain pelts loudly against ground. “Well at least it held up until we were inside,” I grumble. “Come on.” I twist the wheelchair around and head back to the elevator.

 

 **“She’s** looking good out there,” Lewis comments casually. I glance at him, pulled from my tranced state of watching the teen swim. The x-rays had given her the all clear and we got one of the rehabilitation pools ready for her to swim in. She’s taken to it well.

“Yeah,” I agree sullenly, “I guess so.”

“You don’t want her to go,” Lewis observes. “And you’re sulking because you were hoping she’d be around longer.”

“I'm not sulking,” I protest. “I just- I mean…” I sigh and hesitate. “I’ve grown fond of her is all,” I admit finally.

“I had a feeling you would.”

“Do you think she knows?” I ask. “I wouldn’t want her to think I would try to force her to stay.”

“I doubt she’d think that,” Lewis replies. “But, Soph, you are prepared to say goodbye, right?”

“I’m a big girl, Lewis,” I retort, forcing myself not to growl. “I am perfectly capable of handling myself in a situation and I know how to say goodbye.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Lewis whispers. “And you know it. I'm just trying to look out for you. You’ve been through a lot lately and I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I know,” I relent with a sigh. “I guess I'm just a little touchy on the subject, is all. I'm sorry.” I shift closer to him and he places his hand over mine.

I sigh, a content smile twitching at my lips as the earlier tension slips away. I refocus my gaze on Riley, who’s darting around beneath the surface of the water, twisting her body into, what looks like uncomfortable, acrobatic positions; clearly stretching out underused muscles. For a few peaceful moments, there’s silence. Then, with a yell of delight, Riley breaches easily twenty feet out of the water, corkscrewing through the air in an impressive trick. Just as she begins to lose momentum, tilting back down towards the pool, she extends her massive hip fins and I learn the reason she calls them gliders. Expanding like sails, the brightly colored fins take on a convex appearance as they fill with air, jerking her into an upright position. She follows the momentum into a double backflip and lands in the water with a remarkable splash. She glides back to the surface and the edge of the pool, where she leans her arms on the deck and rests her chin on them.

“That was impressive,” I state.

Riley shrugs. “It just feels so good to move,” she exclaims. “I hate sitting still. To do it for over a moon was torture.”

“I think we had fun,” I protest. “I must have taught you at least eight board games. Though you still suck at chess,” I tease.

Riley rolls her eyes. “That is because it is a demon’s game with no true point other than to amuse the weak of mind and soul,” she retorts.

“I take offense to that. Besides, you were pretty addicted to it for a while; you just lack strategizing skills,” I counter. “Point is, it wasn’t all bad, was it?”

“I suppose not,” Riley concedes. “Just the lying in the same spot endlessly was awful.”

“I can imagine,” I agree. “But that was an impressive trick you did just now. How’d you learn to do that?”

“Boredom,” Riley replies. “And a dare.”

“Why am I not surprised? So how are you feeling as far as swimming ability?”

“A little stiff,” Riley admits. “But not too bad considering.” She swipes some of the soaked blonde hair plastered to her face off her cheek, giving her head a slight shake.

“You think you’re okay to go tomorrow?” I press. “Because there’s no rush. If you think you need a couple of days to readjust, there’s no one kicking you out.”

Riley smiles but shakes her head. “I am feeling pretty good and more than anything; I am eager to breathe the ocean once more.”

I feel myself deflate internally, but I force a smile none the less. “Well then, first thing tomorrow we’ll take you downstairs. There’s a tank tunnel that leads right to open waters. It used to be where we drew in seawater to filter into the indoor tanks, but that was years ago. It should make for a good exit port.”

“Okay,” Riley agrees.

“So, you ready to come out now?” I ask. “Getting hungry at all?”

Riley’s eyes narrow and she sticks her tongue out. “Nope, I am staying here,” she decides. “Though I am getting a little hungry. Would you bring food down?” she asks hopefully. “Please?”

I shake my head. “Not a chance. You want food; you get out and come upstairs. I spent last night preparing a nice parting meal for you, you are not eating it on the side of a pool,” I decide.

Riley’s ice blue irises widen with surprise. “Oh. I am sorry, I did not know,” she apologizes, dragging herself from the water, causing rivets of water to race through the paces in between the tiles of the floor like tiny rivers.

I hold up a hand. “Riley, there’s no rush; if you want to swim a little longer, go right ahead. I just meant that I’d like for you to come upstairs and eat, when you're ready that is.”

“I have my whole life to swim,” Riley decides. “I would like to share a meal with you.”

Joy blossoms in my heart like a rapidly blooming flower and I eagerly help her back into the wheelchair, fixing the blanket back into place and helping her into her shirt. Lewis catches my attention by clearing his throat. I stand and move over to him.

“I'm going to get going,” he declares. “I promised my sister that I would babysit the kids tonight, so I'm going to head on over there.”

“Well, there’s plenty of food,” I begin. “If you want to bring them here.”

Lewis shakes his head and pulls me into a hug. “Nah, I’ll get out of your hair,” he decides. More quietly, he adds, “go enjoy an evening with her. I know you want to spend as much time as you can. I won't get in the way of that. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

I smile and tilt my head up to kiss him firmly in response. “Thank you,” I breathe as I pull away ever so slightly. Our noses are still close enough to touch and his breath tickles my chin. “It means a lot.”

“I know,” he replies, his voice low. “Save me leftovers.”

I laugh and pull away, planting a hand on his chest and giving him a shove. “I suppose we do that,” I tease. “Right Riley.” I turn to look back at the teen and find her nose wrinkled. “What?”

“You two. You are not going to mate right here or anything, are you?”

I cough, eyes widening, and my hand flies to my mouth. Behind me, Lewis begins to choke as well. “Riley!” I admonish, shocked by her statement. “Of course not!”

A smug grin pulls across her lips, the tip of her tongue poking out between her fangs. “Good. Because that would be disgusting,” she states pointedly, her grin widening and her one eyebrow raising.

“You are awful,” I state.

Lewis pats me on the back gently. “I have to get going now. You,” he jabs a finger at Riley. “Stop driving people crazy. Especially my girlfriend, please.”

 

“Goodbye Lewis,” I say, giving him a final kiss on the cheek.

“Bye Soph,” he replies. “Have a good evening.” Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with the cheeky, tailed teen.

“I don’t remember you causing this much mischief over the past month.”

Riley shrugs. “I was trapped on a bed in a tiny box of a room before,” she states. “I have more material to work with now.”

I sigh and roll my eyes. “Wonderful.”

“I promise to relent,” she responds.

“Thank you. Now you are hungry right?”

“Yes,” she agrees. “I have not eaten yet, remember? It is beginning to get late.”

“Well,” I begin as I take up position behind the wheelchair. “Maybe if you chose to eat more than once a day,” I remind. It had been quite worrisome in the beginning when she’d refused to eat more than once a day. Her portions were healthy for a meal, but certainly didn’t seem like enough for a whole day. Took a while to realize that her body doesn’t need as much to survive. Evolutionary trait I guess.

“I do not need more than one meal,” she argues.

“Well, just make sure you're bringing a bigger appetite tonight, okay?”

“Alright,” she agrees with a shrug as we enter the mail lobby once more. I wince as I glance outside at the howling storm still pounding against the glass doors. “Ready to get wet?”

“I am already wet,” Riley points out.

“Well, ready to brave a storm then?”

Riley twists in her chair, drapes her arm over the back, and smiles, her eyes narrowed in a challenge. “A little wind and a little rain? It is not that scary, but I will hold your hand if you are scared,” she teases.

Not bothering with a response, I shove the wheelchair into motion and out into the torrential rain. Despite my desperate race across the pavement, about a hundred feet from the door to the employee apartments, by the time we get inside my hair has lost its natural wave and is now plastered against my neck and drenched clothes. I give my head a shake. “Woah, it’s really coming down out there,” I say.

“Uh-huh,” Riley agrees, swiping her dripping bangs out of her eyes. Her fingers pinch the fabric of her shirt. “I think I need a new one,” she mumbles. “I do not think it is supposed to be sticking to my skin.”

I laugh and ruffle her hair. “That’s fine; we’ll get dried off and changed upstairs.”

“Alright, but can you teach me how to use this thing first?” she requests as she pats the arm of the wheelchair. “I want to be able to move around on my own. There is a way for the person in the chair to move it right?”

“Yes,” I laugh. “There is. Put your arms here, and push,” I instruct, guiding her hands to the rims of the wheels. She pushes forward.

“Oh,” she exclaims.

“Pull to move backwards, push the right rim to turn left and the left rim to turn right. Try not to touch the actual wheels though,” I explain.

I let her practise for a few minutes before I lead her into the elevator and up to the top floor. Her eyes dart around, taking in the creamy seashell paper and sandalwood floorboards.

I stick the key into my door and push it open.

“So you live here?” Riley asks.

“Yes. Feel free to look around if you like; I’m just going to go change out these wet clothes. You can just leave your blanket and that shirt by the door; I'll get them after,” I say as ditch my shoes and hurry to my room. “Do you want a clean shirt or are you done with human clothing?”

“I am alright, I think I would prefer to go without,” Riley calls from down the hall. I’m quick about changing into dry clothing and rejoining Riley. I walk back down the hall wringing my hair with a towel. I hand a spare to Riley.

“Dry off a little,” I state.

She takes the towel silently and rubs at her wet hair and shoulders. Smoothing it into her lap, she begins to explore a little. I watch her gaze drift over the furniture and the walls with lazy curiosity. She pauses at the table and curls her fingers around the picture frame still laying there. Lifting it into the air, she brings it closer to examine. I’ve explained pictures to her before, so I know she’s aware of the concept.

“Who is this?” she asks, twisting the picture into view.

My heart clenches and I hesitantly take it off her with shaking hands. “This is- this is Katie. She’s my daughter,” I whisper.

“Is she here? I have not met her.”

“No, Riley, she’s not here,” I begin, sitting on the arm of the couch to steady myself. “She died a few months ago.”

“Oh,” Riley murmurs. “Sophie, I am sorry, I did not mean to bring up a-”

“You couldn’t have known,” I interrupt, waving a hand and forcing a smile. “But it’s too bad you never got the chance to meet; you might have liked her. She was your age, she had a kindred and slightly wild spirit, and she loved the ocean more than anything…” I trail off and take a deep breath, forcing myself not to cry. “Well, she was a good kid anyways,” I finish, replacing the picture on the table, just in front of the seat she always sat at. “So,” I clap my hands together and rub them nervously, eager to move on. “Are you hungry now? I just have to heat everything up, so we can eat at any time.”

Riley shrugs. “Whenever is fine. Really, you did not have to go through the trouble of making something; I could have been perfectly fine with a fish.”

“It’s your last night here,” I reply. “I wanted to do something different; special.”

“Why though?” Riley questions, her head tilting to the side. “You do not owe me anything, in fact I am the one indebted to you.”

“Hush,” I order. “You are not indebted to anyone for anything. And I didn’t make a nice meal because I feel obligated, I made it because I care about you and I want you to enjoy your final night here with us.”

Riley frowns, her slender blonde eyebrows dipping to meet together on her forehead, but she doesn’t comment further. I move into the kitchen and pull open the fridge, pulling out the containers of our meal for tonight.

“It will just take a few minutes to heat everything up,” I say as I fit the first few containers into the microwave.

 

 **Riley’s** eyes are wide as I set the final plate on the table, completing the spread. “Wow,” she murmurs, licking her lips. “That looks really good.”

“Well, I hope you like it,” I reply. I pull a chair away from the table so I can slide Riley’s wheelchair into its former place. On the table is a large platter of tropical fruit slices; mangos, bananas, apples, pears, pineapple, and coconut chunks, a bowl of steamed clams marinated in a mixture of coconut milk, salt water, and a few herbs and cooked with roasted walnuts and mushrooms, made because she’s voiced the mollusks to be her absolute favorite. I’ve made a salad made of fresh lettuce, tomato, carrots, and dried seaweed and there is also a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes made with coconut milk and without butter. For desert, I have more fruit and cold shrimp to be dipped in honey. While her stomach seems capable of handling a wide variety of foods, including those that would never be accessible to her in the wild, I hesitate to fill the meal with processed foods like breads, butters, and sauces as a precaution. The last thing I want is for her to get food poisoning or spend the evening throwing up because she can’t handle those foods. “What do you want to start with?”

“I want to try all of it,” Riley replies, her tongue swiping out over her bottom lip again.

“Alright,” I agree, scooping a bit of everything onto her plate. “You can just grab at the fruit as you like. Now I know you’re not fond of utensils and that’s fine, but you may find it easier to eat the potatoes if you use a fork.” I take a seat at the end side of the table so the corner is all that separates us, and begin to take some food myself.

If Riley heard my earlier suggestion, she makes no move to respond as she eagerly grabs a clam from her plate and removes the fleshy tongue using her teeth. She rolls a walnut between her fingers before popping it into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully before downing another clam and moving to the salad.

“How is it?” I ask, before taking a bite of my own meal.

“Mhm,” escapes Riley as she chews. “It is really good,” she states after swallowing her mouthful. “There is merit to cooked food; the clams have a whole new flavor.” Her finger pokes into the potatoes so she can sample them. Within a moment, she’s stabbing at them with an awkwardly held fork in an effort to eat more.

“Well, eat as much as you like,” I reply.

 

 **“Ah,”** Riley sighs, leaning back in her chair and bringing her hands to rest on her slightly bloated stomach. She hiccups. “That was good. But I think I overate,” she admits.

“That’s okay,” I reply. “As long as you aren’t in any pain. So, what do you want to do now? The storm screwed up all of my plans by trapping us indoors, but we could play a board game or watch a movie if you like,” I suggest.

“What is a movie?” Riley questions.

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” I admit. “A movie is like a series of pictures, but they move and talk to act out a storyline. It’s easier to show you.”

“Alright,” Riley agrees. “I would like to see one of these ‘movies’ of yours.”

“Okay, well, come into the living room and you can pick one,” I reply, opening the cupboard of the entertainment unit and pulling out all of the DVDs, setting them on the coffee table, for her to look at.

Riley brushes her fingers over a few of the cases. “These are not moving or talking,” she declares.

“Those are just the cases,” I tell her. “I have to put the movie into a special slot in order for it to play.” I try to keep my explanation vague to avoid being bombarded with more inquiries from the overly curious girl. Luckily, she seems preoccupied and doesn’t voice any more questions.

She picks up one of the cases and twists it to show me. “Would I find this offensive or is it accurate?” she asks. I glance up to see her holding a well-loved Disney movie from Katie’s childhood. Atlantis displayed in the background with Ariel sitting on a rock for the picture. “And what is with the seashells?”

“That movie is far from accurate,” I reply. “Odds are you’d find it appalling. Do you want to watch it anyways?”

I watch Riley chew her lip, flipping the case to look at the picture once more. Then her eyes light up. “Yes,” she decides. “If only to see what sort of interpretation humans have on the Mer.”

I pluck the case from her fingers and get the movie set up. Internally, I find myself laughing and deviously enjoying the idea of Riley’s reaction to the film. Once she’s settled on the couch and dessert has been brought out, I hit play.

 

 **“I** am sorry,” Riley exclaims as I turn the television off, “but that was awful. Firstly, we are not called mermaids, secondly, there is no such thing as that ‘sea witch’, what was her name again? Never mind, point is that Mer do not have tentacles, spells, or magic glowing forks. And that girl was an idiot. Why would she do all that stuff? I mean no one in their right mind would change everything about themselves, make a deal like that, just for-”

“It’s just a children’s movie, Riley,” I laugh, interrupting her rant. “And none of it was meant to be accurate, it was meant to be amusing. To most of the world, the Mer don’t exist; they’re just a fantasy, so there are hundreds of different interpretations on what you look like and how you live,” I explain.

“But still,” Riley protests.

“Children’s movie,” I reiterate. “Meant to be amusing and teach a lesson.”

“What sort of lesson could you pull from that?” She demands, ice blue eyes fixing on me.

I shrug. “Actions have consequences? That you have to fight for the things you care about? Follow you dreams?” I list some suggestions.

“I guess,” the teen relents. “And I suppose it was a little funny and amusing.”

“Good. Now it’s getting late, how are you feeling?”

“A little tired,” she admits. “I did not sleep so great last night.”

“Anything wrong?”

“No. It was just a rough night. I think I was just excited and worried at the same time and it led to a fitful slumber,” she admits, her lips parting in a wide yawn, giving me a full view of her long and wickedly sharp fangs. I can’t help but shudder at the sight of them when I think about the damage they can do and how easy it would be. It definitely reminds me never to get on the girl’s bad side.

“Well, we’d better get you settled for the night then,” I decide. “But before we do, I want to run something by you.”

“Uh, okay,” Riley agrees, shifting in her spot on the couch and curling her tail beneath her. “What is it?”

“Well, actually, it was Lewis’ idea but I agree with him. He would like for you to agree to be microchipped.”

“Microchipped?” Riley tilts her head to the side, a usual tic when she asks a question. “What is that?”

 “It means you would get a microchip, before you ask what a microchip is; I'm getting to that,” I add hastily, watching the teen close her previously opened mouth. “A microchip is a very small piece of technology. It would be no bigger than half the size of the fingernail of your little finger.”

Riley lifts her hand up to inspect it. “That is small,” she agrees, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Yes, but a microchip can do a lot of things. Like storing and sending data, monitoring heart and pulse rates, and most come with a tracking system, which means it can be located anywhere in the world.”

Riley’s eyes narrow with suspicion, but not quite to slits so it’s not full anger yet. “So if it was on me then you could find me-”

“In,” I correct. “It would be inside you, not on you.”

“In?” Riley coughs.

“Riley, honey calm down,” I plead, extending a hand to squeeze her shoulder. “Nothing happens without your ‘okay’, alright. Now listen, as far as it being inside you goes, you won't even feel it and it certainly won’t cause you any harm; the needle will sting a little but that’s the extent of it. And yes, it would allow us to find you if need be, but Riley, that’s not a bad thing. It would also keep a monitor on your body. Your heart and pulse rate, blood pressure, that sort of thing.”

“And?”

“Well, Riley, it’s in your best interest. There’s a reason for it. You know that it was a very close call when we found you; had it taken any longer, even by minutes, we would not be having this conversation, or any for that matter,” I begin.

“I know,” Riley murmurs, picking at a scale on her tail.

“Well, I don’t ever want to be too late,” I continue. “Let’s say you get hurt again, just as badly. Your microchip would alert us if you started losing a lot of blood, if your pulse quickened to quickly, if you were in trouble, and it would let us find you, get to you. We do care about your well-being, Riley; I’m just trying to offer you some security.”

“I do not know how comfortable I am with the idea of people being able to locate me at any time,” Riley admits. “It feels like an invasion of privacy and like a bad idea.”

“No one would have access to the data except Lewis and me,” I state. “And we’d never spy on you Riley; it’s just a precaution is all. You won’t even notice the chip once it’s in, I promise.”

Riley chews on her lip and visibly hesitates. “Alright,” she concedes. “I trust you, so if you think it is important then I will not argue.”

I smile and squeeze her shoulder, honored after knowing that she’s slow to trust anyone. “Thank you.”

Riley nods just as her lips slit in another yawn and her arms raise into a stretch. I reach a hand out and the scales on her lap.

“I just have to use the bathroom and then I’ll get you settled for the night, okay?”

“Alright,” Riley agrees with a shrug. She leans forward and tugs her wheelchair closer so she can slip off the couch and into it. “Do you mind if I wander a little?”

“Go ahead,” I agree, pushing myself off the comfortably worn fabric of the couch. “I’ll just be a couple of minutes.” I walk down the dark hallway of the apartment and flick the bathroom light on. The soft, sky blue walls and off-white tiles contrasting brightly against the unlit hall.

When I come back out, I pull up short in the doorway. Riley has stopped in front of the only closed door in the apartment, her hand frozen a few inches from the handle in clear hesitation. Clearly hearing the door open, her head turns towards me, her hand lowering back into her lap. “How come this one is closed?” she asks. “All the others are open. Well, except for when you were in there, but no one else is here, right?”

“No it’s just us,” I answer, giving myself a mental shake. “That’s uh- well, that’s Katie’s room.”

“Oh,” Riley’s face falls. “I am sorry, I did not mean-”

“It’s fine,” I reply. “You can go in if you want to.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod and close the distance between us. My fingers curl around the handle, but I find myself freezing mid-turn. I hesitate, my jaw tightening, and swallow thickly. I haven’t really been in here since the incident.

Riley lifts a hand and rests it on my arm, offering me a crooked smile. “You do not have to open it, you know. I am fine without seeing it; I was merely curious about why the door was closed.”

I shake my head and muster my courage. “No, it’s time,” I decide, pushing the door open and flicking on the light.

The amethyst walls brighten immediately with the flood of light. Katie’s bed is neatly made, the large dolphin comforter tucked neatly under the mattress. Her extensive shell collection litters the shelves, the desk, the end table, wardrobe, and even a few on her window seat. A small pile of clothes lay folded on the corner of the bed, clearly forgotten in an early morning rush the day of the incident. Her developed photographs cover nearly every inch of the one wall, the bulletin board hanging above the desk stuffed full and the wall holding hundreds of taped up images. Dolphins, sharks, otters, seals, seahorses, close ups of coral and seascapes of reefs, kelp forests shine within the glossy images.

“Wow,” Riley comments, her eyes wide as she stares around. “She really did love the ocean. I have never seen so many shells in one place before.”

“She collected them from various dives,” I murmur, tracing my fingers over my personal favorite; a coconut size shell with a soft brown exterior that fades to milky white around the edges. Memory calls upon the image of the interior, how it starts out pearly, but becomes as deep a magenta as Riley’s fins further in. It has five spiny extensions that just out in a star like pattern and a large white spot right in its middle. It had been a shell that Katie and I had found together while cave diving in search of a crystal walled cavern in the cliff-side. Katie had wanted to get some pictures of it for a portfolio she was putting together. She had been fourteen when we made the rare find since conchs aren’t usually found that deep inside a cave.

“I have seen this reef before,” Riley’s voice breaks me from my thoughts. I turn to see her staring up at a picture handing on the wall, her arm extended to brush a finger pad over the image.

It’s a picture of a sea otter plucking an urchin from a coral outcropping.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

Riley nods. “Yes, I recognize the pattern of the reef and the placement of these rocks. My family used to stop here during migration when I was little, but then boat activity got to common and we rerouted.”

“Small world,” I comment.

Riley shrugs, but offers up no response as her eyes glance over the rest of the images. I do the same, looking over each piece of the massive collage. I feel my heart clench in my chest, tears watering in my eyes as I find one picture I didn’t think she still had, much less pinned up with the others. It wasn’t taken by her seeing as she’s in the shot. It was taken by a passerby on request and the photo holds the two of us when Katie was eight. Sitting side by side at a picnic table each of us with an ice-cream and massive grins, Katie’s chin is embedded in the top of the frozen treat that I’d taken the opportunity to bump up into her face. She’d smiled through it and once the picture was taken, returned the favor by smearing the remainder of her ruined cone into my cheek. It had been just after I’d filed the legal documentation to become her guardian.

I sniff, one hand making its way up to my heart, the other reaching out to smooth back the yellowed corners of the photograph.

“Are you alright?” Riley asks in a tone thick with concern. “Maybe we should leave now.”

I turn to face the blonde teen staring up at me with light blue eyes clouded with warmth and worry. Her willful and wild personality now seems subdued as her worry trumps her natural behavior. I can’t help but smile, the pain in my chest lessening at the sight of the girl I’ve come to spend nearly every waking hour with over the past month and realize that since she’s showed up, I’ve laughed and smiled, played games, been pranked, joked and talked, gotten into a meaningful relationship, and had barely thought about the pain and heartache that had been my life only hours prior to meeting her; barely thinking about Katie and the hole in my life.

“No,” I refuse. “I'm fine. Besides, you’re tired, it’s been a long day and you’ve another long one ahead of you so it’s high time you got to bed.” I stride forward and take a hold of the comforter, tugging it up and folding it back before patting the mattress. “The sheets are clean and I can change the pillow case, there’s some spares in the closet.

“Sophie, you do not have to do this,” Riley argues. “I am fine anywhere; I sleep in the sand or on a rock most of the time anyways. I know this is hurting you.”

“Riley,” I feel my tone grow stern. “I have had my mourning period and it’s high time I started moving on. I love my daughter, I always will, but it’s just a bed and you are more than welcome to use it.”

“It does look rather comfortable,” Riley admits as she wheels closer.

I bend over to slide my arm around her torso and the other hand under her tail as I flip her into a somersault onto the bed, laughing at her startled squeak. She pushes into an upright position, her fins ruffled and her hair sticking up in wayward strands, her lips parted in shock. Her lips quickly twist into a sly grin, her expression morphing into one of mischief and delight. Her fingers fist into the fabric of a pillowcase and the next thing I know the soft projectile is colliding with the side of my face. I stumble but manage to catch it before it falls. Gripping it tightly, I swing it down onto Riley’s head, twice, beaming at her laughter. Ducking away from my onslaught, she grabs the remaining pillow and, holding onto it this time, begins her counter attack.

The pillow fight lasts quite a while before I call it off. Riley’s chest is heaving, her hair beyond hope of looking decent, and she’s started to sweat. I imagine I'm no different. I help her get situated, holding the blanket aloft so she can slide her tail down the bed without getting her fins tangled, and then tucking her in with it. Her face hits the pillows as she rolls onto her side and snuggles into the blanket. I sit on the bed beside her and brush her bangs off her face. For once, she doesn’t protest about it and I let my fingers linger over her brow for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Are you excited about tomorrow?” I ask.

She nods. “I am eager to be back in my element,” she admits.

“Well, first thing tomorrow,” I promise. “Everything seems perfectly fine internally, so you’re free to go, but-” I break off and hesitate.

“But what?” A slight edge enters Riley’s tone and her eyes fix on me, looking at me with a new emotion I can’t quite place.

“Nothing,” I reassure her. “I just mean that you can go or, if you wanted, you could stay here,” I whisper, voicing my heart’s desire and chewing my lip in the process.

“Here,” Riley repeats, clearly mulling the word on her tongue. “And what, live in a tank? Become one of the attractions?”

I recoil at the sudden venom, wince as her lips pull back in a warning snarl. “Of course not,” I protest. “Riley, I would never do that to you and you know it. I didn’t mean it like that. I want you to go tomorrow, want you to be able to go and be free; you’re not meant to be cooped up. But I also know that you are on your own and I still don’t think that is any life for you; you shouldn’t be lonely and by yourself, you should be with your family, with the people who love you.”

“I cannot return home,” Riley mutters. “Remember? I am an outcast; I am not welcome among my family.”

“Which is why I'm offering you an alternative. By all means, go, explore, be the wild and energetic soul I’ve come to love. I just thought that you might like a place to return back to at the end of the day, or week, or however long. That you might want to know that you have a permanent home with people who love and care about you. If you wanted company, a nice meal, a place to sleep where you don’t have to watch your back all the time; you can find all of that here. If you want it that is.”

“You mean it?” Riley asks, her voice cracking slightly. She hesitates. “I do not know; I am not exactly good with commitment.”

“It isn't about commitment, Riley; there’s no strings attached, I promise. I just want you to know that you are always welcome here, at any time,” I explain, tugging the blanket up over her shoulders. “You don’t have to give me an answer, just… think about it, okay?”

“Alright,” Riley agrees. “Thank you.” She offers me a smile and I return it, bending over without really thinking, and press a kiss to her temple.

Again, much to my surprise, the willful teenager doesn’t protest or complain. Instead, her ice blue eyes slip shut and another yawn parts her lips. “Goodnight, Riley,” I whisper. I stand up from the mattress. “Just holler if you need anything.” I flick the light and pull the door shut behind me with a soft click.

 

 **The** water rises and falls a few centimeters, lapping at the sides of the basin. The pool of water is shaped like an ‘E’ with one prong of tiled floor jutting out like a dock over the water. Riley, Lewis, and I are all at the edge. Riley is sitting on the floor, her fins trailing in the water, stirring it up and causing light to dance across the concrete walls. Her left shoulder, just around the jut of her shoulder blade, is still red and irritated, a lump forming from where the chip was inserted. Lewis tried to pick a spot where it would be less likely to be damaged and while it had to hurt, Riley hadn’t made so much as a peep when the needle went in.

“You ready then?” Lewis asks.

Riley nods. “Yup.”

“Well, guess this is goodbye,” Lewis decides, giving her a pat on her good shoulder.

“Thank you, Lewis,” Riley says, twisting to look up at him. “For putting in all this effort to help me. I owe my life.”

“It’s what we do; you owe us nothing,” Lewis insists. He ruffles her hair and gives her shoulder a squeeze. “Just try to be safe out there, alright?”

“I will,” Riley agrees.

Lewis nods, giving her one last pat on the back before turning to me. “I’ve got some files to report,” he decides. “Come find me after?”

I nod, grateful that yet again, he’s removed himself to give me a chance to spend a last couple of minutes alone with the Mer. “I will.” And then he’s gone, leaving just the two of us. I remove my sandals and sit next to Riley, dipping my feet into the cool water. “So, you’re sure you're ready?” I can’t stop the question from tumbling from my lips.

Riley’s head dips forward and she shuffles her glider fins. “It is time,” she decides.

“And you are going to be careful out there, right? We’re going to try and avoid any more close calls.”

“I do not actually try to be in life-threatening situations,” Riley counters. “Being injured is far from enjoyable and I try to avoid it where possible.”

“Good,” I agree, wanting to drag the conversation on, to give myself more time, but at a loss for what to say.

Riley turns her head to meet my gaze. “I will be alright,” she voices determinedly. “Thank you, for everything, but you can stop worrying now. I have to go, Sophie, I should be as far from land as possible before midday. The boats will be out and I would prefer to be in deeper waters before the surface becomes crowded.”

I nod, tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, and force myself to accept that I’m out of time. “Well, the tunnel will take you straight out,” I say. “And it’s never closed. I’m leaving the wheelchair down here, so if you decide to come back, you can get around. Just…think about it okay?”

Riley offers me a weak smile; an uncomfortable sort of twist of her lips that makes my heart clench. She leans forward and gives me a light hug. “Goodbye, Sophie,” she whispers.

When she pulls away, my heart screams to pull her back and beg her to stay, but I don’t. Instead, I just watch as she slips beneath the surface of the water and, with a flash of color, is gone; disappearing into the tunnel and out to sea. “Goodbye,” I whisper back with a sigh, that forced smile imprinted on my brain. After that look, I’m less certain that we connected like I previously thought we did. I’m not sure anymore that this was ever more than a forced pit stop for her. Now, I’m truly afraid that I’ll never see her again.

A cold chill creeps into my heart, forcing its way in and forming a frigid, gaping hole. One that feels almost twice as big as the last one. I continue to sit, staring at the tunnel entrance, with tears streaming down my cheeks and yet, I'm not even sure when I began to cry.


	29. Discussions and Plans

**Katie**

_The lighting is harsh, stings in my eyes. I squint through narrowed lids at my surroundings. The starch white concrete walls are barren of any sort of personalizing pictures or posters. The bare floor colored red around the drain with stains that should make my stomach want to purge itself of its contents, but instead, I feel distanced and calm. The restraints tightened around my wrists, already rubbed raw by the coarse leather, and around my waist, keeping me secured on my stomach to the frigid metal of the gurney fails to spark any concern; even the hazy edges to my vision feels rather natural._

_I can’t seem to summon an ounce of true emotion even as I watch a faceless scientist stride into the room clade in a long white lab coat streaked with bloodstains and blue plastic gloves. Instead of approaching me, he strides to another gurney, I hadn’t noticed before, positioned in the middle of the room. My heart clenches then, at the sight of the gurney’s occupant; a small child, no older than eight. Long, soft brown hair stretching midway down her ribcage is strewn about and spilling over the side of the gurney. Her arms are restrained at the wrists around the handle at the top of the gurney, forcing her arms to be extended and bent at her ears. Her slender tail is also restrained around the base of her fin. Both sets of restraints look pulled a little too tight and are certainly too big for her but the scientists clearly haven’t bothered to obtain a smaller size and have opted to tug them so tight that her fingers are curled and turning white._

_It takes me a moment to recognize the girl on the table, since I can’t see her face, but the bright sapphire scales and ocean blue fin finally set off warning bells in my muddled brain. I chew on my lip at the sight of her heaving chest as she attempts to jerk free of the restraints._

_The air smells thickly of blood, sweat, and chemicals, and I'm fairly certain the first two are coming from her. I twist in my own restraints as the scientist plucks a silvery scalpel, already stained with crusted flecks of blood, from the tray of tools. I attempt to shout, to scream out at him to stop, but find myself frustratingly deprived of my voice; a large lump in my through choking any attempts of vocalization._

_Instead, I find myself powerless, struggling pointlessly against restraints and heavy limbs, as I watch the scientist mercilessly slice through skin with the sharp blade._

A sharp pain in my gut pulls me from my nightmare. I force my eyes open and sit up, trying to still my shaking. Beside me, Luna’s face is contorted as she writhes in her sleep. Her tail jabs into my side again, an arm jerking up, a clenched fist nearly catching me in the jaw. “Luna,” I hiss her name, dodging another unintended punch. I pin her tail beneath my own, trapping her flailing arms. “Luna, wake up!”

Beneath me, she falls slack for a few heartbeats before she bolts upright, her crystal eyes snapping open and shifting around wildly. The irises are wide and thick with fear, her body shaking and her bottom lip beginning to quiver. If we weren’t at the bottom of the pool, I know tears would be welling in her eyes. I wrap her in a tight hug, a hand instinctively smoothing down the hair on the crown of her head.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It was just a dream; you're safe.”

Luna clutches tightly at me, her fingernails digging into my shoulder blades as though she expects me to disappear. The action makes me wince, but I make no move to pull away. After a moment, she begins to relax, falling limp and simply leaning on me. Another couple of heartbeats and she pulls away and lets her hands fall to her lap. ‘I lashed out again, did I not?’

“Yeah, you did,” I admit.

She sighs and lowers her head, blowing out a stream of bubbles in the process. ‘Did I hurt you?’

“No, I'm fine. Your tail hit me, woke me up, but it’s okay; no harm done, I promise. At least you aren’t too difficult to hold still until you wake up. I think part of your mind recognizes that you’re safe; you don’t fight as hard when I touch you and you tend to wake up soon after. How bad?” I ask. We’ve been here for five days now, they decided to wait for Lukshia to return before bringing us down to formulate a plan, and she’s had nightmares four nights in a row now. This is my third time being torn, shaking, from a bad dream. It does not seem to matter whether we sleep above or below the water; the dreams just keep coming.

‘Bad,’ she admits, moving a hand to rub her other arm. Her limbs are still shaking and her gills are flaring with over exertion.

“What was it about?” I ask. The past few nights, I’ve been making her describe them. She hates it, but it seems to help her settle down and I want to keep track of them so that if they get any worse, I can tell someone about them.

‘The same,’ she replies. ‘It was the same as last night, I think. I have trouble remembering details sometimes.’

“I know,” I answer. “Dr. Patron still?”

Luna nods, squeezes her arm, and sniffles, rubbing at her reddening nose. ‘Did you have a bad dream too?’

I nod. “Yeah, I did,” I murmur. “You pulled me from it.”

‘Was it your transformation again?’ Luna asks. My first two had been about that; the first time it was the end of the transformation, the agony of my legs slitting open and fusing together. The second one was also the transformation, but it was different. Instead of the tail, I been growing flippers, dorsal, and several smaller cartilage fins erupting all over my body.

I shudder, but shake my head. “No, it was like the first time I was in a lab room with Dr. Patron. When they strapped me down and forced me to watch them torture you; except this time you were younger, like seven or eight,” I admit.

Luna frowns, her fangs poking through between her lips. ‘You were dreaming about that? But, I do not understand, why?’

I shrug. “Probably because it bothers me a lot. It bothers me that you endured all this stuff for so long by yourself, that you were so young, and that, most of the time, when it comes down to it; I am powerless to stop them from hurting you,” I confess. “You’re my best friend, practically my sister; I don’t want anything to happen to you, but I can’t keep us safe either.”

‘But you try,’ Luna offers. ‘And that means a lot.’

“Thanks Luna, but these nightmares are still beginning to take a toll,” I sigh. “I wonder what time it is, it seems pretty bright in here already so maybe the sun is up. That would be nice, means we aren’t up at a completely outrageous time.”

‘I think you are right,” Luna agrees. ‘At least I hope that you are right, because I doubt I can fall back asleep.’

“Well,” I begin. “I think I want to surface, get out of the water for a while. Maybe there’s still some leftovers from last night to snack on. You want to come?”

Luna smiles softly and nods. She stretches out her tail and yawns before following me up to the surface.

I surface right at the edge of the pool and recoil with shock, not expecting anyone to be sitting there, much less who actually is there. Fear licks its way into my heart and my lip instinctively curls. Beside me, Luna shrinks back; her fingers tightening around my arm, and hisses at the blonde haired woman sitting cross-legged on one of the mattresses.

Elizabeth jerks back a little, hurt and shock spreading across her features.

I swallow and tense, terrified at what her presence means; that they’ve found us. I shake my head, put an arm across Luna’s chest protectively, and back up. “We won’t go back; we’ll fight, you can’t make us go,” I snarl.

Elizabeth shakes her head and pushes herself forward to the edge of the mattress. “Katie, no, honey, I'm not here to-”

“You're here,” I cut her off. “You wouldn’t be here if they didn’t know. I don’t know why they sent you but I suppose it makes sense in a way… We’re not going, you cannot make us-”

“Katie.” Olivia’s voice breaks me from my rant. “She’s not here to drag you back. Elizabeth is my niece.”

“Oh,” I breathe, relaxing slightly. “Wow; you guys are related?”

“Small world right?” Elizabeth raises an eyebrow. “I wish I’d known that there’s history; I would have put in a call right away.”

“Well, it’s not like it would be common knowledge to either of you,” Olivia jumps in, climbing up the platform. “Elizabeth, I’ve only seen Katie a couple of times in her life. Two or three tops.”

“Yeah, I never actually got the story of how you knew; how you know each other,” Elizabeth comments, turning to face her aunt.

“And I’m not buying the whole aunt and niece thing,” I chip in. “You guys don’t look that far apart in age.”

Olivia laughs, shakes her head with amusement, and takes a seat on the mattress next to Elizabeth. “Well, that one’s easy. Her father is my brother older by a decade. I was eleven when I became an Aunt, but I accept the compliment about my age,” Olivia says with a wink.

I smile and shrug, a few sarcastic comebacks flashing through my mind, but I decide not to voice them.

“And as for how I know Katie,” Olivia redirects her attention to Elizabeth. “I believe I’ve told you about Lewis Patter, correct? The sea vet I went to school with; the one that live in Australia? Well, we meet up for a few weeks every two years, so I go down to Australia every four. Katie is the daughter of Sophie Brooks, who owns the park that Lewis works at.”

Elizabeth nods. “Well, that makes sense; just sucks that we didn’t realize the connection earlier. I wish I’d known.”

“Well, you both know now,” Olivia decides. “Now, Katie, are you two hungry?”

I shrug. “Umm, a little peckish at best,” I admit. “What about you?” I turn to face Luna, still low in the water and tucked partially behind me. She chews her lip and shakes her head. I sigh at her blatant shyness and tug her forward a little. Though I'm met with little resistance, she immediately takes to leaning against me, her fingers curling around my bicep as she peeks out from the fountain of hair she’s allowed to fall into her face like a protective veil.

Olivia sighs and shakes her head while Elizabeth covers her mouth to smother a barely supressed chuckle. After a moment, she raises a hand and bends the fingers at Luna. “Hey, there,” she greets. “I’ve been hearing some interesting things about you the past hour and I have to say I'm impressed at everything you’ve managed over the years. Good on you,” she praises.

Luna’s grip on my arm clamps tighter, the muscle in her jaw feathering as she tenses up further.

“Hey,” I protest, extracting my arm from her stony grasp. “Any tighter and you’ll cut off my circulation.”

Luna’s gaze flits to me briefly, an apology glistening in her rounded eyes, and curls her fingers around her opposite arm instead, drawing her attention back to the two women on the platform almost instantly.

I sigh and gently grasp Luna’s chin, dragging her focus back to me. “Why don’t you take a bit of a swim,” I suggest, eager to get her to relax and figuring that she’ll calm once she’s away from the attention. Uncertainty flashes in her eyes before she seems to settle on gratitude. She nods once and then slips beneath the skin of the water and doesn’t surface again. I turn away from the water and pull myself out to sit on the foamy mat of the platform, water running off my arms and scales to form small rivets in the squishy material.

“I didn’t mean to frighten her,” Elizabeth says.

I shake my head. “No, don’t worry about it. Luna’s just shy around people and you are a bit of a reminder,” I explain. Elizabeth’s face falls slightly, but she doesn’t protest.

“It’s more than that,” Olivia objects. “That child has always been defensive and shy, but she’s been gradually getting less distrusting and more flat out skittish. Even you’ve been much more withdrawn these last few days, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that neither of you have been sleeping properly. I noticed that on the road and chalked it up to stress, but the circles under your eyes keep getting darker. What’s been going on?”

I rub at my arm, scratching lightly at the skin there. “Luna and I… Well, we’ve been having nightmares,” I relent. “I haven’t been having quite as many as her, but even when I’m not having a bad dream, I get woken up; Luna tends to thrash around and lash out in her sleep.”

“Mhm.” Olivia purses her lips. “I had a feeling. Perhaps we should consider the possibility that the both of you are suffering from post-traumatic stress.”

“PTSD?” Elizabeth questions. “That’s a good possibility. More than likely now that I think about it.”

“What exactly is post-traumatic stress?” I inquire. “I mean, I’ve heard the term before, but I don’t know what it is exactly.”

Olivia shifts on the corner of the mattress, her worn leather sandals falling from her feet as she bring her legs up and crosses them, resting her hands on her ankles. “Post-traumatic stress is a mental health condition similar to an anxiety disorder. It used to be referred to a shell shocked and was most commonly diagnosed in war veterans, but anyone can suffer from it,” she begins.

“Its name pretty well sums it up,” Elizabeth jumps in. “PTSD is found in people who have experienced or witnessed something traumatic, whether it be war, a natural disaster, an attack or assault, being held hostage or captive; I'm sure you get the picture.”

“And it causes a lot of symptoms I’m noticing between the two of you; severe nightmares, withdrawal, flashbacks, depression, avoidance, both of reminders and of social interaction, irritability, and difficulty sleeping or concentrating to name a few. It often takes within three months to start seeing symptoms, sometimes it can take years before symptoms arise, but it can also begin almost immediately after the trauma,” Olivia finishes.

There’s a loud, angry snort behind me and it causes me to jump. I turn to see Luna hovering in the water only feet from me, her eyes wide, fangs poking out from her top lip, and her head shaking slowly.

“You disagree?” Olivia asks.

Luna nods, her arms crossing, though her posture doesn’t seem angry, merely distressed.

“How come?” Elizabeth prompts. I remain silent, wordlessly searching my friend’s face for an answer to her sudden boldness and disagreement.

‘That cannot be right,’ she argues. “This post-’ she falters for a moment. ‘What is the sign?’

“I don’t think there is a specific sign for it. The closest would just be trauma,” I say, demonstrating the sign.

‘Thank you. This post trauma thing that you are talking about cannot be affecting us because none of it is in the past,’ Luna signs.

“Sign language,” Olivia breathes. “I didn’t know you knew that, Katie.”

I shrug. “I learned it years ago. A friend of mine was deafened in an accident. I taught Luna because she’s mute and had no other means of communication.”

“That’s impressive. Though, I don’t know it, so you’ll have to fill us in,” Olivia replies.

I nod and repeat Luna’s comment rather reluctantly. I’d much rather ask her about it in private, where she’d be more open.

“I don’t understand,” Elizabeth murmurs. “What do you mean none of it is in the past. Sweetie, you’re out of there, they can’t get to you anymore.”

‘It does not feel like it,’ Luna argues with a soft, silent sigh. ‘I cannot believe that it is over and we are safe. It cannot be that simple, that easy; I do not believe it is over. And… it does not _feel_ any different here,’ she admits. ‘Do not tell them that.’

I offer a translation to the two women and, as requested, leave out the last bit. I know I’ll have to talk to Luna about all of this.

As I relay my friend’s words, Olivia’s worried frown deepens to genuine concern. “Luna, come on over here for a second,” she requests as she slides down to sit cross-legged on the floor. I watch Luna chew on her top lip for a moment before she reluctantly swims forward and pulls herself from the water beside me. Another brief hesitation and she shifts enough to sit in front of Olivia, her tail coiled beside her, the muscles tense like a tightly wound spring, likely to allow her to dive away if need be. Olivia keeps her movements slow as she brings a hand up to cup Luna’s chin and force the girl’s gaze to meet her own. “I know that this has been stressful and overwhelming for you; it’s been years since you’ve been outside that facility and known who you can and can’t trust. I'm not even going to try to begin to imagine what it has been like for you over the years,” she begins. “What you’ve been forced to endure is brutal and awful, but you aren’t there anymore. I understand your fears; I worry too about you both being discovered here sometimes. Your fears are justified, but let me tell you that it most certainly was not easy to get you out there and it is going to be just as difficult for them to find you here now. You need to allow yourself to relax a little and try to believe that you are safe now,” Olivia continues, her thumb swiping across Luna’s cheek. “And if there’s anything you need, anything that will help make the transition easier on you; all you have to do is ask, okay?”

Silence settles over the room, only the sound of Luna’s scales catching on the foam of the mat as she shifts uncomfortably. She leans away from Olivia’s touch and wraps her arms around her body, her hair falling back into her face like a protective wall. I wince, hating when she retreats like that. Slowly she nods her head, before shuddering and pulling herself back over to the edge of the pool, allowing her fin to dangle into the cool water.

Olivia sighs softly and turns her gaze to me. “Lukshia is due back this afternoon, so I’ll come get you in an hour or so since I imagine you’ll want to be there when we discuss the next steps,” she states.

“Alright,” I agree.

“Luna, you’re welcome to come too if you like, but you can also remain here if you’d prefer; it’s up to you,” Olivia offers. “For now, we’ll leave you be; see if you can’t get a little rest while you’re up here, alright?”

“Alright,” I agree, despite knowing I likely won’t try.

“I'll be down in a minute,” Elizabeth decides. “I’d like a moment to speak with you, Katie.”

“Uh, okay,” I reply.

Olivia nods and stands, wordlessly making her way across the room, the door slipping shut behind her. Once she’s gone, I refocus on Elizabeth, whose expression has grown solemn. “Is everything alright?” I ask.

The woman sighs and runs a hand through her loose golden locks. “Yeah, don’t worry, everything is fine. It’s just that I probably won’t see you again after today; it is best I stay away as much as possible so there’s no connection,” she explains. “So, I wanted the chance to apologize to you properly, to both of you, for everything; I should have done more.”

I shake my head. “That’s it? You’ve already apologized, more than once in fact. I thought I already said that I don’t blame you for any of it; it was beyond your control anyways. I know I reacted badly earlier, but that was for totally different reasons.”

“I know,” Elizabeth replies. “But I need to say it, Katie. I have never stopped feeling awful about it. The two of you are not science experiments and you don’t deserve to be treated the way you were.”

I tilt my head a little and stare long and hard into the woman’s eyes. “You don’t want forgiveness, do you?” I ask, searching her expression. “I’ve already done that yet you keep bringing it up; do you want me to be angry with you? I don’t understand what the problem is.”

“It’s too easy,” Elizabeth murmurs, her gaze falling to her lap like a beaten puppy or scolded child, or both. “You’re too forgiving and it doesn’t feel right. I did a horrible thing and continued to help the people that have been brutal to you both; I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

I nod, my tongue swiping out over my bottom lip. “Maybe you’re right,” I agree, watching her head jerk back up to meet my gaze. “I mean, when I woke up in that little tank with you sitting over me; I was terrified. You said you didn’t want to hurt me and the first thought that flashed through my mind was ‘but you did’. And perhaps the only reason I was so forgiving was because of the painkillers, the fact that I shouldn’t bite the hand trying to feed me. Maybe I was too forgiving then. But that was then and this is now. And look at what you are doing to yourself; you’re chewing yourself out about an even in the past, something you really couldn’t have prevented anyways. Stop it,” I order, allowing myself to relax. “You’ve suffered enough and talking about it is more of a reminder than I can handle right now. Let’s just leave it in the past and move on, okay?” I offer.

Elizabeth smiles and nods, taking a deep breath and releasing it with a sigh. “Alright, that sounds good. Thank you.” I nod and watch her focus shift to Luna. She extends a hand out towards the Mer, but freezes when Luna tenses up. Still, she doesn’t lower her hand, instead leaves it suspended in mid-air. “The whole time I was there, I never once considered the possibility that you might be intelligent, never thought of you as any more sentient than perhaps a dolphin. I was certainly wrong; you are smart, and beautiful, and very brave. I'm ashamed that I didn’t see that earlier, didn’t even ponder it. Perhaps I’m no better than the rest of them for that…but I’m certainly going to try to be from now on,” Elizabeth vows. “I won’t make the same mistakes twice.”

At her words, Luna’s lips twitch, the corner of her mouth curling up in a slight half-smile. The reaction would seem small to anyone else, but I know it to be an impressive response for Elizabeth to gain. Luna’s fingers shake as she hesitantly extends an arm, bringing her fingertips to brush against Elizabeth’s palm. She makes no move to actually take the woman’s hand and after a moment, she tenses with a shudder and moves her hand back into her lap but, at least to me, her message it clear. She may not trust Elizabeth, not by a long shot, but she also harbors no ill feelings towards her.

The blonde smiles softly. “You’re both going to be alright now, my aunt will make sure of it; just, stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Will do,” I agree.

With a final farewell, Elizabeth takes her leave and I watch her go, not fully sure if I should feel sad or not. Beside me, Luna sneezes violently, startling my attention to her. “Are you alright?” I ask.

She nods and sniffs a couple of times, rubbing at her nose. ‘Just dust,’ she replies.

“We need to talk,” I state. Luna meets my gaze and shrugs. “What did you mean when you said none of this was in the past? That nothing is any different here?” I press, concerned.

Again, I get a shrug. After a long moment, Luna sighs and raises her hands. ‘It is too soon to be in the past and we were having bad dreams long before they took us from our tank. And it does not feel any different here. There are no scientists poking at us here, true, but look around.’ At her request, I allow my eyes to survey our surroundings. ‘We are just as boxed in here as we were there. They tell us to stay, bring us food when it is convenient for them, and maintain a guise that we have a say in anything; yet we are not even allowed to leave this room if we desire. We are no more free here than we were at the lab. This is just another cage and I hate it.’ Her hands are quivering with stress and anger, her breathing heavy, tears brimming in her wide eyes.

“Luna…” I breathe.

She sighs. ‘I know you do not feel the same way. I know that you know the doctor woman and that you are confident that they will see us to freedom; I know that you think this is a good thing, but I do not. I cannot. I am sorry, but I lack your hope and your confidence. I fear that if I open myself up here and am betrayed, I will never trust again. This feels too much like another cage for me to take that risk. I just…do not feel safe here.’ By this point, tears have begun to brim in her eyes and she looks hopelessly defeated.

“Hey,” I begin, keeping my tone soothing as I reach out to squeeze her shoulder. “It’s okay. I get it, Luna, really I do. I was just a little concerned about how you were feeling when you said those things. You’ve been at that lab for six years, you can barely remember anything before; it’s all you know and it was an awful existence. I can understand why you’re uncomfortable now and I respect that you need some time to become comfortable around others again. And if anyone here cares for you, then they’ll respect that too,” I state. “Just don’t wait too long, okay? I feel like it would be a big recovery step for you and I'm worried that longer you wait, the less likely you are to be able to trust again. It’s a two sided coin, remember that.”

“I know,” Luna replies, leaning into me. “I just- I cannot yet. It is too soon.”

“I know,” I whisper back. “Why don’t we try to get some sleep for an hour,” I suggest despite knowing neither of us likely will. “Are you going to come down with me?”

Luna sucks in sharply and hesitates, her fang poking out to chew on her lip. ‘Yes,’ she decides after a long moment. ‘I want to know what is going on,” she decides with a curt nod of her head. Then her lips part, revealing her glistening fangs, and curling tongue in a wide yawn.

I smile. “Let’s lay down for a bit.”

 

***

 

The conference room is pleasantly spacious, but with only five of us, feels a little awkward and empty. Dustin and Olivia sit side by side, with Lukshia at the head of the table. Two of the chairs have been pulled out so that Luna and I’s wheelchairs could be slid into their places, opposite Olivia and Dustin.

Lukshia offers me a smile before beginning to speak. “So, the truck has been taken care of, our tracks covered, and while the facility is more frantic than a beehive, they seem to be focusing on local parks, environmental groups, and airports, so we should be alright for the moment. I’ll keep constant tabs and warn you if they get a little too close.”

Dustin nods. “Good. At least that’s one thing off our plates. So, I suppose our next step is to figure out how to get these two safely back to Australia.”

“It’ll be a little while,” Olivia voices. “Things will need to die down before we attempt any border crossings of any kind.”

“I agree, it’ll be a few months at least before we can take action,” Lukshia continues. “You two are going to have to sit tight a while and lay low.”

“I’d like to get a message to Sophie,” I argue. “She should know I’m okay.”

Dustin shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he dismisses. “I don’t mean to sound cruel, but we can’t risk contacting her; they’d look for that.”

“Besides, it would only cause her pain, Katie,” Olivia adds, her voice soft. “She wouldn’t be able to come here, wouldn’t be able to take action of any kind. She’d have to leave her daughter’s life in the hands of people she doesn’t know very well, having no contact, no way of knowing how things are going, for months. No, it would be far kinder to keep her in the dark. I know it’s been hard on you and that you miss her, this is a lot to ask, but I need you to hold out a little longer.”

I sigh, chewing on my lip. “I want to go home,” I whisper, hating how broken I sound, hating that my weaknesses are showing through. “I miss park, I miss everyone who works there; they’re practically family, I miss my room and my school, I-” I falter as my voice cracks, tears threatening. “I miss Sophie, I miss her so much.” Luna rests a hand on my arm and squeezes.

“I know you’re homesick, sweetheart; none of this has been easy. But we have to wait, if we act too soon, you could wind up right back in that tank and we’d have less of a chance of breaking you out again,” Olivia points out.

“Don’t cry,” Lukshia whispers when I sniff and rub at my nose. “Everything is going to be alright; you’re going to get home safely and see your mother, I promise; you just have to be patient a little longer.”

“We’ll see you both home,” Dustin vows. “No matter where that may be.” The second part is directed at Luna.

My friend stiffens, her head bowing slightly and I know Dustin has struck a nerve; a deep one by the looks of it. Two sparkling tears, shining like liquid diamonds, roll down Luna’s cheeks and drip onto the blanket hiding her tail. She shakes her head softly and wet her lips. ‘I do not even know where home is,’ she signs slowly, her hands shaking slightly. ‘It could be anywhere… the ocean is so big and I don’t not know if…’

She trails off and I squeeze her shoulder, softly repeating her words to the rest of the table. “It’ll be okay. If I have to traverse the entire ocean with you to help you find them, I will, I promise.”

Luna’s crystal eyes shine and a twitch of a smile touches the corners of her lips as she rubs at the moisture in her eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she signs.

“You’re both going to get to go home; and the first stop is Australia. Now there are several ways that we can do this,” Lukshia begins. “I can get them aboard an uncharted flight, but it may require transfers at different airports. Easy enough to set up, but a little risky and we would still have to wait. We could go by boat; it will take quite a while in comparison, but they should be fine to swim across the border when we pass, then we can pick them up again on the other side. I like this one the best. It would take a while and mean that I’d need you, Olivia, to make the trip with us in case anything arises medically; I want your skills readily available. The problem with that is then there’s a direct link because you’ll need to use your passport.”

Olivia nods. “And explaining away the leave might be tricky; I am needed here too.”

Lukshia nods. “The only other option I can think of is we boat a short distance to another country, and then fly them from there. It would have you home in a week or two at most and can be vacation time. But it will take time to organize and there are flaws in it; my contacts spread globally, but the most reliable are here. And we still need someone receiving on the other end, so we need to risk contact.”

“Hmm.” Dustin drums his fingers on the desk. “We’d need a boat that would have easy ocean access for their tails as well as proper cover so they aren’t exposed on deck.”

“I can handle that,” Lukshia replies.

“Then do what you need to do to go by boat. It means that you can leave sooner, which is better because we’re all on edge. Now you would need to take the Panama Canal, are you prepared to do that?”

Lukshia nods. “Yes.”

Dustin nods. “Well, I can handle the leave, Olivia. I’ll call in a favor; just… try to fly back from somewhere, okay?”

“Will do,” Lukshia promises.

“What do you girls think?” Olivia asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I mean, we might be seen, it’s not like a boat has a great amount of cover or hiding places. “And wouldn’t a boat big enough to house us comfortably be suspicious and heavy on gas? And with the stairs and such, I’m not sure Luna and I could effectively get around.”

“I was thinking about that too. It would be hard to find a place for you both to sleep, since I don’t want you two to be cut off from the water all night either; it may be doable, but I doubt it’s good for you,” Olivia agrees. “Do we have some way of having a net attached to the boat? We could have it hang beneath like a hammock. Then they could sleep there and spend as much time in the water as they please. You’d only truly have to come up for meals that way.”

“I’ll have to look into all of this,” Lukshia decides. “Give me a couple days to draw up a plan and make sure I can get access to everything we need.”

“Definitely,” Dustin agrees. “That’s to be expected. Learn what you can and we’ll reconvene in a week to make a final decision.”

“Do you two have anything to add?” Olivia asks.

Luna shakes her head, her lips pursing and her eyes finding her lap. She looks uneasy, but makes no move to comment or explain whatever concerns she may have.

“No,” I reply, breaking off in a wide yawn. “You all managed to get us out completely without our opinions; I trust your capability of getting us home too.”

Olivia smiles. “Alright. Now, the both of you look worn out. If you want, you can go back up and try to get some more sleep, but I was thinking that maybe you’d like to come with me to one of the large indoor tanks. We have an exhibit of rescued turtles, green and loggerhead at the moment; it’s closed to the public so if you wanted to have a chance to swim in a much larger water body for a bit, you’re welcome to use it as long as you don’t mind the turtles.”

Luna brightens instantly, leaning forward in her chair and a true smile crossing her face for the first time around anyone else at this table. ‘May we?’

I repeat her question and Olivia chuckles. “Of course, but you can’t bother the turtles; they are in recovery after all.”

“We won’t,” I promise, glad to see Luna enthusiastic about something here.


	30. The Return

**Sophie**

I rest my cheek on my fisted hand and watch the light reflected from the water dance off the surrounding concrete walls, bobbing about as my feet kick in the water, creating disruptive ripples in the light. I sigh and brace my arm against the floor so I can lean back slightly without falling over. I swirl a foot through the water aimlessly, gaze fixed on that damned tunnel where Riley disappeared through a little over a week ago. Quarter of a moon, she’d say to describe the amount of time gone by.

I chew my lip to keep it from quivering as my heart clenches tightly, clamped within steel walls, threatening to crush it with every breath I take. Her smile rises in my mind, long fangs gleaming as she grins, that mischievous twinkle ever present in those ice blue eyes.

I jump, nearly pitch into the water, when hands brush against my shoulders. Their grip tightens, pulling me back and steadying me.

“Sorry,” Lewis’s voice is soft, his breath tickling my ear as he leans in close. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” I reply, licking my chapped lips. “What are you doing down here?”

“Checking on you,” he responds, taking a seat next to me and draping an arm across my shoulders. He tugs slightly and I allow him to pull me close into a wayward embrace, leaning my head on his shoulder. “You’re down here an awful lot lately.”

“I just never realized how good a place it is to come to think; quiet and with no distractions, well, minimal distractions anyways,” I answer, attempting to sound annoyed.

“Why do you bother putting the energy into lying to me?” Lewis retorts. “We both know you’re not good at it.”

“I miss her,” I sigh.

Lewis rubs my arm and nods. I can hear his heartbeat, slow and heavy, and I find it soothing in a strange way. “Sophie… is there any chance that the reason you’re so attached to Riley is because she reminds you of Katie? That she could potentially be a replacement?”

“Of course not,” I retort, feeling anger rise in my chest. “Riley is her own person, Lewis; I know she’s not Katie and I’m certainly not looking to turn her into Katie either.”

“Sophie, relax, I’m not trying to come down on your or belittle you, I’m just worried about you. You were deep in mourning when an injured teen, of the exact age as Katie, shows up in desperate need of care. I think maybe you latched on to her as a chance to reconnect with the mother that was lost with Katie and I think that you may have thought there was more mutual affection than there actually was. Riley may be a sentient being, but she’s also still a wild animal so to speak. She belongs out there, and while you may have been a temporary touch of warmth, she was always going to choose the ocean while you were convinced she’d decide to stay. The deep connection you’re imagining isn’t as deep as you think and you need to stop sitting here for hours believing she’s coming back; because odds are, she isn’t.”

“I know,” I whisper with a sigh, pulling away long enough to meet his gaze. “But I can’t seem to keep my thoughts from her; I have to know if she’s alright out there, yet I have no way of knowing.”

“Well, let me put your mind at ease.” I jump, startled by the new voice. My head whips to the side, catching sight of the sopping hair and gleaming grin of the Mer teen resting her arms on the side of the middle prong of floor Lewis and I are sitting on. “Because I am perfectly fine.” Her eyes shine brightly, the picture of health, as she settles her attention on Lewis. “I typically tend to go against the odds, actually and I do not much appreciate being referred to as merely a wild beast.”

“How long have you been here?” I ask. “I didn’t see you come in.”

Riley shrugs. “You were talking,” she replies.

“What brings you back?”

Again, I get a shrug. “Everything felt a little odd when I left. I mean, at first it was great. I swam for hours, surfed some currents, rode some waves, beat up a bull shark,” Riley answer casually, as though those activities are just everyday things. “And burnt off a lot of pent up energy; I felt good. But then I started to get a little, I do not know, lazy? Lounging in the water, sleeping in the sun, floating at the surface,” she frowns. “Not things I typically do, but I go where the current takes me so I went with it. Well, I was watching clouds drift yesterday; something I would think boring, but it is actually quite relaxing… until every cloud began to resemble a chess piece.”

I feel my heart clench.

Riley shrugs again. “And I realized that I never actually did beat you at chess, did I? And I was so determined too; I cannot leave something like that unfinished,” she points out.

“Uh… oh. You came back for a game of chess?” I ask, feeling deflated.

Again Riley shrugs, another grin twisting across her features. “Alright, I missed you…. A lot,” she admits, the smile becoming shy and solemn. The muscles of her arms ripple as she hauls herself out of the water to sit beside me. Another shrug claims her shoulders. “This was the first time in a very long time that I have felt like I belong somewhere and am wanted by someone. I… I was foolish to nearly pass that up and I was hoping that I could maybe still-”

“Of course,” I cut her off. “I told you, you’re always welcome here.” Without hesitation, I wrap my arms around the girl and pull her into a tight hug, pressing my cheek against her wet hair. “You are here to stay right?” I feel myself nearly beg.

Riley’s arms wrap around my torso as she actually hugs me back, her entire body relaxing into my embrace as though I was a comfortable bed to be slept on. “I cannot stay full time,” she whispers. “Lewis is right about one thing; I have a wild born heart and to stay in one place too long with drive me mad. I will have to go, for a few days, quarter moon perhaps, and burn off energy… but I will always be coming back,” she promises. “There is a whole new world I have to explore now too. There is so much in your world to do and learn and try, and I want to experience it all. Will you teach me to do the things you do? To read and to write and to cook too?”

“We’ll teach you anything you want to know,” I confirm.

Beside me, Lewis shakes his head as he stares at the teen. “You just love to prove me wrong, don’t you?”

“It is my sole purpose in life,” Riley admits sarcastically. “More like just a bonus.”

“Don’t be mean,” I mock scold the teen. “Now are you hungry?” I glance at my watch. “I’ve skipped lunch, but I’ve no problem making an early dinner.”

Riley shakes her head. “I am alright, but thank you. I did not come back to eat your food; I came back to see you and to explore your world.” She wrings her hair out, the water droplets splashing over the deck and back into the pool. Her tailfins flared out instead of lying limb as they normally do and her gliders are folded around her hips, almost resembling a skirt.

I frown, having never seen her do that before. “Are you alright?” I ask, nodding towards her fins.

She follows my gaze and gives her tail a shake, the fins falling limp once more. “They tense up sometimes when I am sitting still after moving quickly,” she says. “Minor annoyance, it does not hurt any.”

“You look good,” I tell her, noting the shine in her eyes and the sheen of her scales. Everything looks better, fuller, like it’s complete. “Healthy and happy. Have you been in any pain at all?”

Riley shakes her head, blonde whips of hair snapping water droplets from their tips. “No. I get a little stiff sometimes but normally only after I wake up because I have sat in one spot too long,” she explains, her fangs gleaming within a beaming smile. “So, are we going to go? This room is dull and uninteresting,” she declares.

I begin to laugh, shaking my head as I stand and wheel her wheelchair over. I’d left it down here in case she came back. Helping her into it, I pull one of the marine park t-shirts over her head and fix a thin sheet over her tail, not wanting her to overheat in the sweltering sun.

**After** several hours of taking Riley on a grand tour of the park, as she’d requested, and answering a multitude of questions, I find myself curled up on the couch, leaning my head against Lewis’s shoulder, with Riley sitting beside me, leaned forward slightly as she experiences her second movie. A horror film that Lewis had wanted to watch and Riley had risen to the challenge of enduring the jump scares and atmosphere. She snorts as she watches. “Why would you do that? I mean, if someone is out for blood, they are not going to reveal their position by answering you, so why reveal yours by calling out?”

“It’s a movie,” Lewis replies. “And that’s typically how it goes in them.”

“Well the characters are idiots then.”

“Hush you,” I tease, poking her. “Watch the movie.”

Riley sticks her tongue out at me before her attention goes back to the screen. “He is going to die.”

“Probably,” I agree, only to burst out laughing as the music takes a terrifying turn to meet the ‘jump out’ scene and Riley jumps in her seat, nearly pitching forward. “Sure you can handle this?” I tease.

“Of course,” Riley protests, but her cheeks color a little. “It just caught me off guard.”

I smile and reach out to squeeze her shoulder. “It’s really great to have you back, Riley,” I whisper.

She smiles, the corners of her eyes wrinkling up as genuine joy spreads across her face, an infectious smile that has my own growing wider. “I am glad to be here too. Thank you, Sophie, for wanting me around. I like it here.”

“Then stay. For as long as you want to. Feel free to call this home.”

Riley nods and shifts in her seat so she can lean against me a little. It’s one of the few times that she’s initiated contact, and my heart soars at the knowledge that for a time at least; I’m needed again.


	31. Out in the Big Blue

**Katie**

I sigh happily, leaning my head against my crossed arms resting on the rail. All around us is the endless expanse of ocean blue, no land in sight. A slight breeze whips up, blowing briny mist up into my face. I take a moment to glance around the boat. It’s a rather impressive sixed personal pleasure craft, with bunks, a bathroom, and a little kitchenette down below, and a large enough deck for a few beach chairs and space to lounge around. Luna is coiled up underneath one of the lounge chairs to shield her face from the sun as she naps. She’s been doing that a lot lately. Barely sleeping at night, she often dozes for small amounts of time, never fully asleep, but just relaxed and trance like. She still has nightmares like this, but not as frequently, so it offers her a chance to get some rest.

Olivia is also out with us, reading a book on one of the chairs, dressed in a rather modest blue bikini top and black shorts. Her wavy blonde hair is pulled into a loose ponytail and her blue framed glasses sit low on her nose. She glances up, notices me looking, and offers me a smile. “Everything okay?” she asks.

I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s quiet today,” I comment. Lately the waters have been busy with fishing trawlers and cargo ships crossing through the waters. Luna and I have spent a lot of time hidden in the cabins or curled on the net below the boat. “Not that I’m complaining, it’s just a change.”

“Well, we have left the more commercial routes, so it should be significantly quieter for a while,” Olivia replies. “I’d say we’re about a third of the way. And I have to say, despite the more serious reason to this trip, I can’t help but feel on vacation.”

“It is a nice day. Maybe I should wake Luna and we should go for a swim, stretch some muscles.”

“Leave her for now, she’s finally sleeping. Goodness knows you both need as much rest as you can get.  How are you holding up?”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. It’s getting a little longer, now dipping just below my shoulders. “I’m alright, I guess. Homesick. Really homesick. And I’m still afraid to dream as much as Luna is, but…I feel a lot less tense now. I think being out in the open like this, having a way out, so to speak, is helping with my nerves.”

“Good,” Olivia states with a nod. “Hopefully as time goes on, things can relax even more and you’ll feel better. Looking forward to getting back to Australia?”

“Yes,” I admit. “I’m starting to feel rather desperate, admittedly. I just want to see Sophie again, to let her know I’m okay.” I sniff, rubbing at my nose a little. “I’ve never missed someone so much before… To be honest, though, I’m worried about how everyone is going to react. I mean, they all think I’m dead, and now I’m going to show up, rather randomly, not only alive, but with a wild story, a million problems, and this,” I state, gesturing to my tail, flicking my fin as I do. “What do I even say?”

Olivia shrugs, closing her book as she stands and moves to lean against the boat beside me. “That’s a tough one. I mean, I imagine it will be a bit of a shock for Sophie, but she is practically your mother. She’ll just be happy to have you back and safe, I think. Everything else will be secondary to her.”

“I guess so,” I agree. “I think I’m going to take that swim now. I could use some time alone, clear my head, you know?”

Olivia nods and squeezes my shoulder gently. “Go for it. Just stay close and check in before sunset.”

“Will do,” I agree. “Don’t let Luna worry,” I add as I slip off the chair and pull myself the few feet to the edge of deck where it slopes low near the water. Glancing around to ensure we’re still alone, I dive off into the ocean. The water is refreshing and cool against my dry scales, a breath of relief to parched skin. While remaining out of the water is no trouble, the hot sun can make me feel irritatingly dry if I remain out for too long. Not enough to hurt or peel, but just enough that a dip in the water is a huge relief. Rolling onto my back, I stare up at the distorted light of the afternoon sun as it dances across the surface of the moving waves. The boat continues to motor away from me, but I feel no rush to catch up, knowing it will be easy to do so and I needn’t spend every moment chasing it down. Beneath me is an endless expanse of blue, a bottom I can’t see. I begin to wonder how far down I can go before the pressure starts to hurt. How deep can Mer dive, and how long would it take me to reach the bottom?

I find myself drifting deeper, not really thinking about it, and letting the cooler waters engulf me like a welcoming friend. Flicking my fin and swimming on the diagonal to keep some semblance of direction with the boat, I move deeper and deeper through the sunlit zone of the ocean. It’s rather peaceful, though far from quiet. The ocean is alive with the resounding crash of waves, shrill calls of gulls above and dolphins and whales below. While I don’t see any, I know sound travels quite far underwater and coupled with the increased hearing sensitivity of the Mer genes within me, I could very well be hearing something miles off. The water has grown a little darker, taking on a shade closer to indigo or cobalt, and I know I’m approaching a depth I wouldn’t consider diving this fast, or at all, and yet, there’s no discomfort. No air rising in my ears, no strain to breathe, and I feel relaxed.

The water around me suddenly bursts to life as a school of cod surge by just below me, seemingly oblivious to my presence as they dart around, bright scales flashing despite the low light. The school is large, and outer lines have a few slower stragglers, clearly elderly or sick.

I can’t quite understand, much less describe, the feeling that bubbles up in me. It feels primal, instinctive, but the next thing I know, I’m flicking my fin hard to dive down into the school. The fish scatter as I breach their ranks, their movements’ no longer in unison, but instead disheveled and broken as they weave away, treating me as a predator to be avoided, and it seems that’s exactly what I’ve become. I twist and weave with them, getting a feel for their movements, before I lurch forward and snap my jaws shut on empty water where a fish had been only seconds prior. With a growl of frustration, I lash my tail to dive back in, swinging the muscular appendage around to smash into the side of one of the medium sized fish. Stunned, it flaps its tail weakly, giving me a window of opportunity as I close my jaws around it, fangs crunching easily through scale and flesh to embed in the bones beneath.

I give my head a shake, feel its fin smack against my face twice before it falls limp in my mouth, the life draining away. The rest of the school is gone now, surging ahead and away from me, but I make no move to follow them, instead swimming up in the direction of the surface and the boat.

It’s only then, as I make my way up, that the haze around my mind loosens its grip and I realize what just happened. I spit the fish from my mouth, a thin trail of its blood drifting away from my lips. Disgust wells in me, not so much at the fact that the fish is dead or that I had the raw meat in my mouth, but that I caught it. Caught it, bit it, and drained the life from it with my bare hands, or more importantly, my teeth. And I’d done it without thinking about it, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. And yet, despite the strange and distasteful nature of my actions, I find myself staring at the fish that’s beginning to drift around in the current. My stomach rumbles and I frown.

_I didn’t even know I was hungry…was it just an instinctive reaction?_

My heart leaps into my throat as a pair of hands cover my eyes, a tail twining with my own and startling me. I tug free of the grip and spin around to find Luna staring at me, her bright eyes shining, tongue jutting out between her teeth. I give her a playful shove and shake my head. “You’re not funny.”

Luna’s smile widens in response and she shrugs. ‘I thought it was funny,’ she counters. ‘You are not normally so easily startled. Everything alright?’

“Yeah, just lost in thought is all.”

Luna blinks slowly, purses her lips, but offers up no comment. She reaches out and grasps the fish I’d caught. ‘Good catch,’ she comments, pushing it back into my hands.

“Thanks,” I murmur. “Here, you have it,” I offer, extending the dead fish out to her, its limp form swaying slightly in the current.

Luna shakes her head and pushes it back to me. ‘No, you caught it, you eat it.’

“I don’t want it,” I admit.

‘Then why catch it?’

“I don’t know, it just happened.” When Luna cocks her head to the side, her bright eyes staring into mine as her slim eyebrows knit together, I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “I think it may have been an instinctive reaction. I don’t know why I caught it, don’t remember what I was thinking when I did, it just sort of happened. Either way, you take it,” I reiterate, pushing it into her grasp once more.

‘If you caught it on instinct, it is probably because you are hungry,’ Luna argues, her hands moving fast.

“I can make a sandwich back on the boat. I guess I’m just feeling a little weirded out. I’ve just caught a fish in my jaws, Luna, which I guess isn’t unusual for a Mer to do, but it still feels a little wrong to me. I’ve never really shown any form of instinct before. I mean, you had to help me open my gills in the beginning, remember? I’m just confused. I don’t want the fish.”

Luna’s arms curl around me and she rests her head on my shoulder, curling her tail around mine as she embraces me. I relax slightly and hug her back. “Thanks Luna,” I whisper into her long hair.

‘You should go back to the surface now. We do not want to let the boat get too far away, and you look tired. You are not sleeping well either, you should try to get some rest while the day is calm,’ Luna suggests. She accepts the fish from me and then squeezes my shoulder and jerks her head in the direction of the boat.

I nod slowly. “Yeah, that sounds good,” I agree, relaxing. “Thanks, Luna. I feel a little like I’m losing my mind out here. I mean, at least back there I knew we weren’t safe or okay, but I also knew what was expected of me, what I needed to do. Out here, I feel like we’re much safer, but also like we could be caught at any moment. And I don’t know what to do about it. And then this on top of it is just getting to me. I’m worried about seeing Sophie again, about how she’ll react to the tail. I’m terrified of what would happen if we are found out here. Now these new instincts are surfacing every now and again, but they just make me feel less…well, less human, and I don’t like it.”

‘I understand,’ Luna replies as we swim, side by side. ‘I am afraid too, and nervous about my own family, though I still feel like there is slim chance I will see them again. I imagine that if I was in your position, I would not like new instincts to surface within me either.’

“We’re going to find your family, Luna,” I assure her. “I promise you that we will. If I have to traverse every inch of ocean on the planet with you, I will.”

A smile touches Luna’s lips, but it’s weak and doesn’t reach her eyes. ‘Thank you.’

I bump her gently. “That’s what friends do. I wonder if we’ll meet any other Mer out here. It’s been two weeks and we haven’t seen any trace.”

Luna shrugs, though her face lights with a curious wonder and more than once I catch her looking around as we swim. When we finally reach the boat, its dark shape bobbing on the waves above us, I pause. Glancing around first to ensure that the boat is alone before cautiously surfacing and pulling myself out of the water to sit on the edge, my fin trailing in the water. Seconds later, Luna joins me.

“Have a nice swim?” Olivia inquires, looking up from over her book. She adjusts her glasses on her nose and slides a green bookmark into her paperback before setting it aside and standing.

Beside me, Luna sinks her teeth into the fish, tearing away a chunk of the flesh and chewing happily. “Yeah, it was fine,” I reply. “Where’s Lukshia? I haven’t seen her today.”

“Down below,” Olivia replies, but she offers no further explanation.

As if summoned by the mention of her name, Lukshia chooses this moment to surface from the cabins below. “You’re both back then,” she observes. “Good, I wanted to discuss something with Olivia and it’s better that both of you are here; means I won’t have to repeat myself later.”

“What did you want to talk to us about?” Olivia questions as she makes her way over to stand by the taller, darker skinned woman.

“I’m thinking of changing the plans. Some things have fallen through and docking for a few days to resupply has become an unavailable option. We’re going to go hit journey’s end in Colombia, which is about a day further than we planned, but it’s not too bad. Anyways, I have a contact there that owes me a pretty big favor. I’m cashing in and it’s all arranged,” she reports. “His cargo flight is heading to Sydney anyways so he’ll fly the girls there.”

“Is that safe?” Olivia inquires. “I mean, it’s not like they are something you see every day and if he gets different ideas-”

“Don’t worry, it’s all taken care of. He won’t know they’re on board or who he’s bringing there. We’re going to give you girls sleeping pills,” Lukshia says, directing her attention to Luna and I. “You’ll sleep through the trip and make it in a transport crate. He’ll never see inside and I’ll tag along as a precaution. Once we land, it’s a half hour drive to the marine park you mentioned, Katie, and from there I’m fairly certain we can trust that you’ll be alright?”

I nod. “Yeah. Yeah, once we’re home there’s not too many people I can think of that would sell us out.”

“Then it’s settled,” Lukshia confirms. “Two days and we’re on a plane. You’ll be in Australia by the end of the week. And Olivia, that means you can fly home as soon as we dock if you like.”

“Just when it was starting to feel like a vacation,” Olivia sighs with a roll of her eyes. “No, it’s good this way. It’s high time you were home,” Olivia says, nodding to me.

I smile and nod, the tension leaving me. Something about the finality of this, about the set deadline, the plan, strikes a chord in me. I glance over at Luna, leaning sideways to nudge her. “This is it,” I whisper. “We’re finally out.” The statement feels obvious; we haven’t been near the lab for a little over a month now after all. But like Luna said, it never fully felt real. She never felt secure and frankly, I hadn’t either. Now, knowing that within days, I’ll be back home, I feel differently. Even though there’s still a million different things that could go wrong or backfire, I feel liberated, and all the stress and worries of mere minutes ago melts away.

Luna holds my gaze for a long moment before her eyes soften, shining like bright blue crystals held up to the light, and she nods. It’s a gentle motion, barely more than the slightest dip of her head, but she seems to relax too. Her entire body just loosens and loses all tension. Then she begins to cough. Violent hacking wracking her body, shoulders tight as she hunches over, the sounds wet and thick. The faintest splatter of blood drips down onto the sapphire scales of her tail.

“Luna, are you okay?” I inquire, concerned. I bring a hand up to rub between her shoulder blades. After a few moments, her coughing fit subsides and she pulls her hands away from their place covering her mouth. Thicker blood splatter coats her fingers. I frown, worried, but Luna doesn’t seem to acknowledge the glistening droplets, dropping her hands to her lap and glancing at me when I reiterate my question.

She nods, her breath shaky. Slowly, a wide smile pulls across her face, and this one does reach her eyes, lighting up her face as she nods again. “Y-yeah, I am okay,” the voice is weak, shaky and raspy, like it hasn’t been used in years. Which, it hasn’t and I can only stare at my friend as I hear her speak for the first time. “An-And I think-” She breaks off again to continue her coughing fit. After a couple of seconds of rasping and gasping, she forces herself to finish her statement. “I think you are right.”


	32. She Speaks

**Luna**

I hear Katie gasp softly beside me, but I’m too focused on coughing to really pay much attention to her. Wonder spreads through me even as flecks of blood launch past my lips to spatter on the deck of the boat below. I feel a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. Katie shifts closer and leans into me, pulling back my hair out of my face and pinning it there. Then Olivia is crouching next to me, pushing a bottle of water into my hands.

“Drink,” is her simple instruction. I nod, continuing to cough until I manage to settle myself down enough to take a few slow sips. It helps, even just to wash the coppery tang of blood from my tongue. “Better at all?”

“Y-yes-” I manage to croak out.

“Good. Now don’t force it. You need to give those muscles time to grow strong again, it’s been a long time since you’ve spoken after all. Take deep breaths, try not to have another coughing fit, alright?”

I press my lips together and nod, breathing through my nose. Katie’s hand moves to rub up and down my spine and I can see her grinning at me from the corner of my eye. “Are you okay?” she asks, her smile faltering for a moment. I nod again, taking another mouthful of water. “You did it. Luna, you spoke, your voice…it’s back,” she murmurs as though she can’t quite believe it. I cannot quite believe it either. As much as I secretly desired it, I never actually imagined that I would find my voice again. It feels almost liberating, even if speaking feels like I am swallowing broken oyster shells at the moment.

I return her grin and nod. “Feels good,” I manage before I cough again.

Katie’s smile softens and she rests a hand on my arm. “I’m glad, but maybe relax a little hmm? You don’t want to strain it.”

“No you don’t,” Olivia chimes in. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but don’t overdo it. Take it slow. It’s really good, though. It looks like it was a mental trauma over a physical one that lost you your voice in the first place.”

I tilt my head a little.

“She means that it was in your head, Luna,” Katie clarifies. “You weren’t physically injured, it was just how your brain responded to a trauma that put a sort of mental block on your voice and rendered you silent. Now something has changed and your brain has freed itself of that block. Does that make sense?”

I nod, feeling a little glum about it. If it was all in my head, does that mean I could have spoken the whole time and was just doing this to myself? Could I have prevented it?

I share these worries with Katie, having grown accustomed to sharing everything with her, reverting back to sign language in order to tackle the longer sentences.

“I don’t think that it works that way, Luna. It may not have been a physical thing that damaged your voice, but it was still very real for you. Right?” Katie’s eyes shift to Olivia for clarification. I glance up at her too.

The woman nods. “Yes. A mental trauma is just as real as a physical one, Luna. There wasn’t anything you could have done; it’s just what your body’s response was. But it’s good that you have your voice back.”

“It’s one less thing tying you to that lab now,” Lukshia add, startling me. I’d forgotten that she was behind us. Turning to look at her, I find a warm half smile on her lips, her bright eyes shining. I smile back. “This will be good for you. Now, we should be ready to get off this boat by tomorrow morning and it’s getting a bit later now; are you girls hungry?”

I shake my head, having finished off the fish that Katie caught and gave to me. Beside me, Katie shrugs. “A little, but not really. I’m kind of excited and nervous and I think it’s blowing my appetite,” she says.

“That’s understandable. Well, it may be a little early yet, but perhaps it’s time to turn in then. You girls are going to want to be well rested, I imagine. Especially you, Katie,” Lukshia point out.

“That’s not a bad idea. We could all use some sleep,” Olivia agrees. “And Luna, don’t strain your voice okay? Be careful. Whispers and short sentences are best for now.”

I nod. “Okay,” I agree, keeping my voice soft. It already sounds a bit less raw and my throat hurts a little less. Olivia nods, clearly satisfied. Katie’s tail nudges against me, her scales clacking against mine, and she jerks her head towards the water. “Come on, let’s sleep below,” she suggests. Her muscles coil in her tail as she springs up over the edge, arms raised above her head to slice the water first. Her fin smacks against the water, showering me, and Olivia’s legs, in salty brine.

A wide grin pulls across my lips and I follow her into the water. She’s waiting to greet me by tackling me, pulling me into a headlock and rolling us over and over in the water. Her actions steal a giggle from my lips, and the peal of laughter stops Katie in her tracks, her grip loosening.

I glance back at her with a frown. ‘Everything okay?’ I inquire.

She nods and smile. “Yeah, just startled me, is all. It really suits you, Luna.”

I can’t help but smile again. “It feels good,” I admit, surprising myself as my voice comes out halfway normal sounding, and there’s no pain this time. “I like being able to laugh, and actually hear it,” I press on. “It feels…”

“Liberating?” Katie offers. I nod, shrugging my shoulders and leaning into her. Her fingers tangle in my hair and begin to scratch at my scalp, pulling a content sigh from me. “We aren’t out of the woods yet, but I know what you mean. I feel like something shifted today; I feel less tense and worried, even though I still should be. It feels more real now.”

I nod in agreement, then frown, turning to face her. “What woods?” I inquire. Katie stares at me for a long moment and then begins to laugh, doubling over in a fit. “What?” I inquire, feeling my cheeks flush. “You said we were not out of the woods, but we are not in any forest.”

Katie rolls her eyes, still giggling, and zips over to settle on the net beneath the boat. I follow her, settling on the thick ropey material. It’s not crazy comfortable, but not terribly uncomfortable either. “It’s just a saying,” Katie elaborates. “It means we aren’t free of danger yet, we haven’t succeeded yet, that sort of thing. Sorry about laughing, it just caught me off guard. It’s been a little while since I’ve had to explain something to you, I forgot that you don’t already know what I mean.”

“That’s okay,” I reply.

“You’re sounding a lot better,” Katie observes. “And you’re not coughing. Does it hurt?”

I shake my head. “Do you think being underwater helps?”

“Maybe,” Katie agrees. She stretches out her tail for a moment before curling it against her side. “I still can’t believe that tomorrow we dock…just think, a few more days and we’ll be home,” she murmurs, her hazel eyes shining.

“You will be.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

Katie’s smile falters and she nods. “I guess, yeah. I’m sorry, Luna. But don’t worry, we’re going to find your family too, no matter what. I’ll help you look, I promise. And in the meantime, you’re more than welcome home with me.”

“You think so? I mean, what if your family doesn’t like me?”

“They will,” Katie decides, her tone firm. “You’ll see. And we will find your mother and father too, or whoever is out there waiting for you. I’m actually a little surprised we haven’t seen any other Mer,” she comments suddenly. “Do you think they’re afraid of the boat?”

“Maybe,” I agree. A yawn parts my lips and I shift, getting more comfortable.

“We’ll figure it out,” Katie promises. “Get some sleep. I have a feeling we’ll need it.”


	33. Homeward Bound

**Katie**

I gaze around the hotel room. Its soft cream-colored walls, carpeted flooring, and a single queen bed with almost coppery colored bedspread. It’s not the grandest of places, but we’re only here for a few hours anyways. Luna and I are coiled up on the bed in relative silence. Luna’s eyes are wide, her muscles rigid, and she continues to gaze around as though expecting something threatening to burst from the walls. She’d been much more relaxed in the open waters, but is clearly no longer at ease in the strange and more heavily populated place. She’s been virtually silent since we docked. I bump her gently with my shoulder, tilting my head at her.

“You okay?”

It takes a moment for her to nod, her motions slow and forced, as though she were fighting some unknown viscosity with each motion. “Yeah,” she murmurs finally. “Just nervous.”

“Don’t be,” Olivia says, beating me to a response. We both turn to glance at her, seated on one of the two chairs in the room, pushed in around a tiny kitchen table. Her book is open, the unread side getting rapidly thinner since the start of the trip. “We’re only here for a couple hours while Lukshia is out getting things sorted. Katie, there’s coloring books and pencil crayons in the drawer of the nightstand beside you. The hotel provides them. Not the most engaging of activities, I know, but it might be good to have a distraction,” she suggests, nodding pointedly at Luna.

I lean over and pull open the mentioned drawer, removing the two coloring books and the pack of pencil crayons. I hold up the two books to Luna. One is all Disney princesses while the other is themed with different animals. “Which one do you want?”

Luna gazes at them with a puzzled expression for a moment before reaching out and taking the animal one from me. “What do you do with it?”

I shift closer to her, taking the book and opening it on the bed. It’s meant for younger children, so the pictures are simplistic, one or two animals and a bit of background. “Pick out one you like, and I’ll show you,” I offer.

Luna spends the next couple of minutes flipping through the pages with a look of mild confusion before she makes a choice. The picture is of an orca cresting, with a little island in the background, and a seagull in the sky. She taps it with a finger. “This one.”

I nod and open the pack of pencil crayons, patting the bottom of the box so they all slide out onto the bedspread. “Now you color it in with these,” I say. “Like this.” I pick up the yellow pencil and begin to rub the tip around on the sun in the picture. Luna’s eyes widen as she watches the color spread onto the page. “Now you try,” I say, handing her the pencil. It takes a moment to help her get it decently positioned in her fingers, but eventually she’s able to actually maintain a hold on it, and begins to color. Being under practiced, she struggles a bit with staying in the lines, but she doesn’t seem to care and it doesn’t really matter. She changes colors every so often, choosing ones that are accurate with the picture. I join in, coloring in the water with a dark blue pencil crayon while Luna tackles the orca with black. She goes slow, seemingly determined to stay in the lines now that she’s seen me doing just that.

I find myself nodding off at one point, having left her to her task since she seems so engrossed and content.

“Done!” Luna exclaims happily, startling me awake. She begins to cough again, having been too loud for her still weak voice to handle. She seems better underwater and I’ve come to learn that being above it does have little effects on our aquatic built bodies. I pass her the glass of water on the nightstand before glancing down at the picture. A little sloppy in areas from her learning curve, by the end, she’s got it down to an art.

“It looks really good, Luna,” I say, watching her puff up with the praise.

“Can I keep it, do you think?” Luna asks, glancing at Olivia.

“I don’t see why not,” the woman replies. “Rip it out and fold it up, then pass it over and I’ll make sure it gets sent to Australia with you.”

I follow Olivia’s instruction, more used to what she means than Luna and not wanting the picture to get ripped accidentally. I carefully tear it out of the book and fold it in half, passing it over.

It’s then that Lukshia enters the room. She gives me a look and I touch Luna’s shoulder, shifting to pull the blanket on the bed back and slip my tail underneath, concealing it. Luna follows in suit and we lay down to hide out scales entirely. Nodding, Lukshia steps aside to let two people into the room. They’re carrying two large, but empty wooden transport crates, the words ‘Fragile’ and ‘This side up’ with a little arrow, stamped on it in dark ink. The workers lower them to the floor and then depart. Lukshia has a transport trolley with her and she pulls the one crate up onto it as though it weighed nothing, and pulls the lid off. “You girls ready?” she inquires.

I sit up and nod hesitantly, my nerves suddenly firing. Beside me, Luna looks just as frightened as she struggles to put on a brave face and nod as well.

Olivia moves to take a seat on the bed beside us, removing a small white pill bottle from her purse. A quick glance at the label reveals sleeping pills. “We’re obviously not going to make you girls take this trip awake. These are going to last about twenty four hours, so it should be more than enough time. If you wake up, I’m going to leave an extra pill for each of you, but try to stay nice and quiet okay? But you shouldn’t wake early,” she explains.

“Are we taking them now?”

“Yes. It’s time to go,” Lukshia says.

“So this is goodbye then,” I state, suddenly saddened by the thought.

Olivia nods. “I’ll be down next year, same as always, but yes, this is goodbye. You two take care of yourselves, alright?”

“We will,” Luna whispers.

There’s a few minutes of hugging and thankful goodbyes. I find myself genuinely sad to leave them behind. They’ve done so much to save us and protect us and I know I’ll never forget it.

When it all finally settles down, I find myself staring at the two little pills in the palm of my hand. My opposite hand is holding a glass of water. Taking a deep breath, I tip my hand back against my mouth and then drink the water, downing the pills quickly to get it over with.

“You have to swallow them whole, okay Luna? You can’t chew,” Olivia instructs my friend gently. It should be easy for her, given the chunks of fish she’ll rapidly scarf down when she’s hungry, but apparently it isn’t, because Luna proceeds to cough and sputter for a good while before managing to choke one down, moving to the other. She looks miserable, so I place a hand on her shoulder, giving her an encouraging smile. She return it and begins the process again.

I find myself growing rapidly drowsy and by the time Olivia praises Luna for getting the pills down, I can’t see straight and feel myself start to sway. A warm pair of arms wrap around me and seconds later, Lukshia’s voice is echoing in my ear. “Put your arms around my neck.”

I have to struggle to focus enough to do as she’s asked, but I manage to link my fingers together around her after a moment of effort. My limbs feel dead, filled with…something heavy. I frown, blinking rapidly as my mind scatters, my vision swimming. I can hear Lukshia chuckle slightly, and then wet fabric as she wraps wet towels around my tail like was discussed earlier. Seconds later, my vision darkens and I slip into a drug induced slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle in. Here we go.


	34. Date Night

**Lewis**

Sophie’s hair is silky and smooth as I lace my fingers through it. It’s pulled into tight ringlets instead of its usual loose waves. After a few moments she breaks our kiss and pull away, but the soft smile on her face is enough to pull a wide grin onto mine.

“Dinner was really nice,” she murmurs. “Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out and enjoyed myself. Thank you for this.”

I cup her face and lean in to kiss her again, tenderly, for a few seconds. “Thank you for coming out with me. Have I told you that you look beautiful?”

Her sea green eyes sparkle and she laughs. “Only six times. Flattery will only get you so far, you know,” she teases with a wink. She pulls her keys from her purse and turns away from me to unlock the door.

I step forward and wrap my arms around her waist, leaning close. “But it will get me somewhere? Will it get me the promise of another dinner sometime soon?” I inquire, kissing the nape of her neck.

“Perhaps,” Sophie replies as she opens the door before twisting to face me.

“Oh…Will it get me a goodnight kiss?”

Sophie smiles and shrugs. “I think I’d insist on it,” she answers, pursing her lips and smirking.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint.” Sophie tilts her head up and catches my lips in hers for all of two seconds before pulling away. “Don’t suppose that I can earn my way inside? We could watch a film?”

“Now you’re pushing it,” Sophie replies, her grin widening further.

“I didn’t hear a ‘no’ in there,” I counter, kissing her again. “What do you think? It’s not that late, there’s no Riley at the moment. We could go in and watch a movie, your pick. No one said the night has to end here.”

She rolls her eyes and chuckles. “Alright. One movie. That’s it, I mean it. I have to be up early tomorrow for a board meeting out of town,” she warns. I hold up my hands in mock surrender before gesturing her inside. Following behind her, I close the door and remove my shoes.

“So did Riley say when she was coming back?”

“Quarter moon according to her. So a week, I assume, five days now. We’ll see how well she keeps to that. It’s been quiet again without her.”

I pull her into another hug, pressing my lips against her jawline. “Well, I’ll just have to keep you company until she comes back then.”

“You’re relentless tonight,” she laughs, gently shoving me away as she makes her way into the kitchen. Running water fills the otherwise silent apartment as she fills her kettle and sets it on to boil. “Coffee?”

“Please,” I reply.

A few minutes later, I find myself seated on the couch, my fingers curled around a steaming mug of black coffee. Next to me, Sophie is curled up and stirring milk and sugar into her own cup. The soft clinking of her spoon against the ceramic rings in my ears. Our chosen film is paused until we’re comfortable and ready. After a few moments, she sets the spoon aside, her mug following after a sip. Shifting in her seat, I then have her leaned against me. “Are you ready?” she asks, her voice soft and content. I smile and nod, draping an arm around her shoulders, I raise the remote and hit play. Sophie shifts and rests her head on my shoulder with a soft, relaxed sigh. “I’ve had a really good time tonight,” she whispers. “Best date yet.”

“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it.”

“Mhm,” Sophie agrees. “I only wish we’d started this sooner. Feels like we missed out on a lot of time.”

“Still feels like a dream,” I reply. “But if it is, don’t you dare wake me up.”

We lapse into silence soon after, though I have trouble focusing on the movie. I find myself distracted by the woman next to me. A woman who somehow manages to make me feel like a lovesick teenager every time I so much as look at her. I bring a hand up and tangle it in her hair, enjoying the silky feel of it.

There’s a lot to be admired about her; her strength and determination, her kind heart and generosity. She’s an exceptional business woman, wonderful friend, and a fantastic motherly figure. She’s been through so much hardship over her life, especially of late, and yet she still finds a way to keep going. She still manages to keep the park up and running, managing all the affairs of running a tourist business. She opens her heart and her home to a teenage mythological creature in need of love and care. And in the mixt of everything, still found the time to give the guy crushing on her for years a chance.

I continue to stroke her hair, finding her to be half asleep on my shoulder while a whirlwind of thoughts rampage through my mind. I feel a stabbing pang of guilt suddenly as I look at her. Everything she’s been through and she still manages to smile and give everyone around her kindness and respect. And in return, I’ve been lying to her. Or at least keeping something from her, which feels like the same thing.

I haven’t heard word from Olivia in over two months, not since the initial phone call where she dropped that bomb of news and then told me not to expect further contact to keep suspicions low. It may have been paranoia, but if her claims are true then I imagine that the paranoia is warranted. Katie alive…It’s a hard thing to comprehend considering I was present at the funeral, watched her be buried. I suppose there is ways to manage that, fake a death, but it feels too much like something out of science fiction novel.

Still, if it’s true, which I find myself desperately hoping it is, then Sophie deserves to know. I can’t stop thinking about how much she would want to know. I’m keeping it from her, and while I understand the logic in remaining silent, I’m having trouble sitting on this. But every time I think of telling her, I pause on what to say. How do I explain something like that, something I can barely believe myself?  And then the waiting that would probably tear her apart if she did actually believe me.

_Perhaps it’s best to keep it quiet for now and see what happens. After everything these past few months have brought; I don’t want to see her hurt again._

Soon Sophie’s breathing deepens, the faintest hint of a soft snore echoing from her as she lies limp against me, her head resting on my shoulder. I should wake her, get her into bed so she gets a good rest before tomorrow, but I find myself hesitating, wanting just a few more minutes with her.

The blaring ring of my cellphone going off disrupts the moment. Echoing through the silence left by the ending of the movie. Sophie moans in her sleep, disrupted by the noise and my movements as I fumble for my phone. Her vivid green eyes flutter open and she frowns slightly, sitting up. “Everything okay? Who would call this late?”

“No idea,” I reply. Finally finding my phone, I answer it and bring it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, Dr. Patter, sorry to call so late, but I’ve got a delivery for you down at the gate,” a voice says. I frown, not recognizing it. Must be one of the new night guards. “It’s not listed as for the park so I can’t sign, they need you. Would you mind coming down?”

“No, not at all,” I reply, my frown deepening along with my displeasure at having a peaceful moment ruined. “Be right there.” Hanging up, I rise and turn the television off.

“Is everything alright?” Sophie inquires as she stretches, a yawn parting her lips.

“Fine,” I respond. “There’s some sort of delivery that only I can sign for. It’s a little odd, since I haven’t ordered anything and it’s not listed as a park order, but it is what it is. I’m going to run down and check it out.”

“Oh. Well, would you like me to come with you?”

“What? No, no it’s alright. You go get some rest, you were asleep anyways and you have that meeting. I can handle it and I’ll see you when you get home tomorrow, alright?”

A soft smile touches Sophie’s lips and she nods. “Alright,” she agrees. “Goodnight then, Lewis. Thank you again for a wonderful evening.”

“Goodnight,” I respond, leaning it to kiss her one final time. “And thank you for joining me.”

 

 **The** room is silent enough that my own breathing sounds loud. I pat my twitching hand against my thigh as I stare at the two large shipping crates in my office. Stacked neatly on top of one another, still sitting on the trolley they’d been transported inside on, the words ‘fragile’ and ‘this side up’ are stamped onto the wooden panels in black ink. Small breathing holes have been carved into the wooden lid, indicating something living within, though it could just as easily be mistaken for a manufacturing design or flaw. Along with the crates, I’d been given an envelope. Simple and plain, sealed tight with my name stamped on it.

I release a shuddering breath and tear open the envelope. The letter inside is simple and short.

_‘Lewis Patter,_

_Delivery as promised. Apologies for the long wait and silence. Everything is handled, strings cut and tied off. Best of luck._

_L, O._

I frown, not recognizing the initials. The letter is very short, formal, and vague. Which, presuming my assumptions are right, is warranted and purposeful.

I tip the envelope upside down and a small folded piece of paper slides out, followed by a key ring with two keys on it that jingle as they dump into my palm. Unfolding the second paper, I find a fully colored coloring page from some sort of children’s book. I doesn’t hold my interest long and I set it aside, finding it odd, and eye the thick padlocks on the crates for a moment before setting the letter and envelope aside as well. Taking another deep breath, I kneel down in front of the crates and insert one of the keys into the lock of the top one. One twist and it pops open with no trouble. My hands shake as I stand up and remove the lid. Wonder quickly replaces the nerves as I stare at the young girl within the crate. Incredibly long sandy brown hair spills over her slumbering form. Her lower half is concealed, wrapped tightly in towels, another one simply draped over the fin, except for the blue tips that are poking out from underneath. I imagine that the towels were damp, perhaps soaked, at one point, but when I lift one to pull it away, I find it virtually dry in my grasp. There’s some resistance, so I have to tug in order to pull it away and reveal the tail underneath.

The scales gleam a bright sapphire in shade, small, tightly knit together, and beautiful to look at. The girl doesn’t so much as move as I pull away the rest of the towels and I begin to wonder just how heavily sedated she’s been, how long she’ll sleep for.

Lacking a proper place for them to sleep aside from my exam table, I leave the child in her crate long enough to bring in and set up two cots from storage. Thankfully the late hour means that no one else is about to inquire about my actions, something I can’t help but think was planned.

Leaning over the crate, I scoop the sleeping Mer into my arms. Her head lolls, her hair long enough to be inches from the brushing the floor. Like Riley, the child is heavier than she looks. Her torso is light, but with her tail being solid muscle, it’s a dead weight now. I lay her out on the one cot and drape the thin lime green sheet over her limp form.

That taken care of, I then move the top crate out of the way and stare at the sole unopened one remaining, my nervous tension returning. Taking a deep breath, I crouch down and unlock the padlock.

Nestled within the second crate is what’s left of the eccentric teen who used to offer assistance with the rescues, happily filled in if the interns were unavailable, knew more about marine veterinary medicine than those who were actually going to school for it. The girl how badgered me to look through her latest photos or be her dive partner when Sophie was tied up with meetings. Filled the halls with laughter, hers and others, with her little quirks and smiles.

Her brown-gold hair, shorter and dry, is strewn around her head, haloing it, rather than dripping water from a ponytail or loose wet strands that tumbled down her back. It’s not a bathing suit, or loose tee and shorts, but scales that cover her form. A bright amethyst in color, they almost ripple as they cover her chest and the long limb that’s replaced her legs. Her fin is a bright electric purple, lavender colored veins pulsing through it.

I sigh, looking over her limp form, at all the differences and changes that she’s undergone in the few months she’s been gone. Is the same girl even still in there?

Of course I know that Mer are highly intelligent and aware. Riley’s proved she’s no different from us aside for the aquatic qualities. But this is different. Before me is a girl who was pumped full of some form of scientific chemical cocktail to give her this current form. While the resemblance is uncanny, is Katie Waters still in there? What sort of effects has this had on her mind, her person? It’s one more thing that has me hesitating; stops me from simply racing upstairs and dragging Sophie down here. I can tell her tomorrow, when she gets back from her meetings. By then, I’ll have had a chance to talk with Katie, who should be awake by then, see how she is, how much of her remains, and whether or not I need to warn Sophie ahead of time. I think with something like this, she should have a heads up, otherwise it may hurt her even more. Still, I find myself hoping desperately that Katie is still, well, Katie.

I take a seat on the edge of the cot I’ve just gotten Katie set up on. It’s too small for her, for both of them, and her fin drapes over the edge, but it’s better than nothing. I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Good to have you back, kiddo. Just, promise to still be you when you wake up.”

 

 **I** must have dozed off because next thing I know, my neck is cramping up and the clock in my office is reading nine thirty. Sitting up from my slumped position in my desk chair, I roll my shoulders and massage my neck. It’s been a while since I’ve slept like that. Yawning, I let my gaze wander over the two slumbering forms still occupying their cots. The younger girl, whose name I don’t know, starts to stir. Her nose wrinkles up, tail shifting as whatever sedatives are acting on her begin to lose effect. Within minutes, a pair of vivid, crystal blue eyes are fluttering open, dazed and foggy with sleep. She pushes herself into a sitting position, her tail coiling up around her, while one fisted hand rubs at her eyes. Her movements are slow and sluggish, but she gradually appears less groggy as she begins to examine her surroundings.

Her reaction, however, is rather worrisome as she tenses, her whole body becoming instantly rigid as she takes in the room. When her eyes settle on me, her piercing gaze widening, she shrinks back and her lip curls, revealing her long, ivory fangs. A sharp resounding hiss emanates from her seconds after. The primal, threatened reaction stuns me; I’ve never been snarled at like this before, not even Riley took a defensive stance like this.

I raise both hands in an attempt to appear non-threatening. “Easy now,” I whisper. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

My words seem to do little to quell the girl’s defensive attitude. I watch her eyes shift around the room once more, a deep fear festering in her gaze. The sinuous muscles of her tail ripple as the scaly appendage curls more tightly around her body. She’s tense and sinks low on the cot. Her breath quickens, short spurts of air hissing out from flared nostrils. All the while, her snarl never falters as she remains fixated on me. Her eyes do flit to Katie, briefly, before returning to me, and I don’t miss the desperation that haunts her crystal blue irises.

The hope that the still slumbering teen’s mind remains intact only grows. If this young girl trusts Katie, then hopefully she can bed the distrust in the child and settle her down.

As if roused by necessity, a low moan leaves Katie’s lips, her nose scrunching up as she begins to stir. One tanned arm moves, her slender fingers curling into a fist that rubs into one eye. She falls limp and still once more for a few seconds before her eyes finally flutter open, looking slightly dazed and disoriented. The vivid hazel. More green than brown, with shimmering flecks of gold I’ve only really just noticed. She sniffs a couple of times and gives herself a shake, her bright amethyst scales glittering as she moves. Confusion fogs her gaze as she stares around the room, clearly trying to determine where she is. It causes my heart to skip a beat with worry that she may not remember.

My fears are put to rest as her gaze finally settles on me and, rather than reacting like the other girl, her eyes soften. Her shoulders lose tension instantly and when her lips pull up, it’s into a smile that’s lacking fangs all together. “Lewis,” she whispers.

I relax and nod, lowering my hands, previously still raised in a peace gesture towards the younger girl. “Thank goodness; you’re still you.”

“What?” Katie’s voice raises a pitch and her head tilts to the side.

I wave a hand and shake my head as I approach her. “Nothing, don’t worry about it. I was just concerned that after all this,” I nod to her form and frown slightly at her obvious flinch. “I was just worried if it had an effect on your mentality is all, what with all the chemical changes you’ve undergone.”

The teen’s head bobs softly. “I guess that could be a logical concern. But it’s okay, I’m still me, well…mostly anyways,” she comments softly, her fin flicking out. She falls silent for a long moment before; “I really missed you, and this place.” She leans forward and wraps her arms around my neck, squeezing tightly. I bring my arms up to envelope her, fingers tenderly stroking the shorter locks of her hair. “We’ve missed you too, kiddo, and there’s a lot to catch each other up on, but first I need you to do me a favor and placate your friend. She’s a little on edge.”

Katie pulls away from me, her slender eyebrows furrowed as she refocuses her gaze on the other girl. I watch the two of them, watch as Katie’s gaze softens further and at how the other girl seems to fixate instantly on her when Katie makes even the slightest sound. “Hey, it’s okay,” Katie states. “It’s not a lab room. I know it kinda looks like one, but it isn’t. And Lewis isn’t a scientist, he’s a doctor. A healer,” she adds after considering it. “And he’s practically my uncle. We’re safe here, Luna, I promise.”

The child, Luna, nods and slowly uncurls her body from its lowered, defensive coil. Her azure gaze fixates on me once more, but the previous tension and fear has evaporated, replaced with a calm and curious demeanor. “Sorry,” she whispers, tracing a sapphire scale with her fingertip. “For hissing at you.”

“That’s alright, hon; you’ve both been through a lot. Better safe than sorry, right?”

A tiny grin twitches at her lips and she nods again, but offers no verbal response.

Now that the ice has been broken, I turn my gaze away long enough to grab two folded t-shirts from the counter. I’d collected them when I got out the cots. Both are just simple blue shirts bearing the park’s logo, but they’ll do the job. I hand one to each of the two girls in front of me. “Katie, it’s probably best that the two of you hide your scales; we should probably keep it on the down-low about your presence.”

Katie nods in agreement, pressing her arms into the sleeves and pulling the shirt over her head in one sinuous movement. She smooths the fabric down around her hips and tucks her tail properly beneath the blanket once more. Luna seems to struggle a little more with getting her shirt on, her arms tangling in the holes a few times before she manages to yank it on. Katie snickers in amusement. “Luna, your shirt is on backwards,” she giggles.

“Aw, really?” The preteen replies, stretching out the fabric of her shirt for a better look.

I can’t help but chuckle as well, striding forward the few steps in takes to close the distance between us. “Yes. Here, let me help,” I offer. I grip the hem of the shirt and lift if back up over her head. “Keep your arms up,” I instruct as I help her put it on properly. “There.”

“Thank you,” Luna murmurs softly, tugging on the shirt some more.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Katie assures the girl. Her gaze then settles on me. “So, where’s Sophie?” she asks, a hint of desperation leaking into her voice. “Can we go see her now?”

My heart sinks under her hopeful gaze as I’m forced to shake my head helplessly. “Sorry kid, but she’s not here right now. She left early for her annual board meeting. I didn’t stop her because this is going to be huge for her, seeing you again,” I admit. “And like I mentioned before, I was concerned about your mentality; I just didn’t want to bring her down here until you’d woken and I’d had the chance to talk to you. I think that seeing you again and finding out that the daughter she loves was no longer in there would send her over the edge. I had to be certain. She’ll be back later this afternoon.”

Katie’s eyes seem to deflate and she suddenly becomes immensely interested in the violet scales coating her lower limb. “Oh,” she murmurs. “I guess that makes sense. I just…I miss her.”

I squeeze her slender shoulder, patting against the smooth skin with my fingers. “If you want me to call her, I will. It will still take her a few hours to get back, but-” I break off as she shakes her head. A small smile pulls taunt across her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s okay. She’d need a reason and this isn’t something I want to tell her over the phone. I can wait a little longer,” she states. “Can we just go up to the apartment to wait for her? I’m just so ready to be home.”

“I know. But it’s best that you both stay here for now. You’re still in hiding and it shouldn’t get out that the two mermaids that they’re looking for are here. Or that any are here for that matter. Not to mention the fact that you’re supposed to be dead, Katie, remember?”

“Oh…right.” What remains of her forced smile, vanishes. “I guess I forgot about that. Lewis? What am I supposed to do? Things aren’t going back to normal,” she sighs.

I shake my head and shrug. “I don’t know, Katie, I really don’t. Let’s just relax and wait for Sophie. We’ll fill her in and I’m sure she’ll have some idea of how to handle it. She always does, and either way will want to be included.”

“I guess you’re right,” Katie concedes. “So what now then?”

“Well, now we settle in, I guess,” I reply. “Maybe play some cards or something while we wait. Are either of you hungry?”

Luna’s head bobs softly, but surprisingly, Katie shakes her head. “No, I’m alright. I think I’m just going to take a nap or something. Still feeling a little off from the medication and I want to sleep it off before Sophie gets home,” she whispers.

I nod in agreement, taking note of her slouched shoulders and tamed tone. She’s chewing on the corner of her lip, and with one fang poking through, I’m surprised she doesn’t bite into it accidentally. Fingers curled into soft fists, the index finger twitching slightly, it’s not hard to see her distress. “If that’s what you want to do, go ahead. I’ll wake you round the time she’s due to get home if you happen to sleep that long.”

“Thanks,” Katie murmurs. She shifts to face the wall, lying down on her side and curling up under the sheet. She tugs the thin blanket up around her ears, leaving only her hair visible. Splayed out over top of the green sheet in wispy tendrils, they don’t really do much to reveal the person underneath. I have a brief moment curiosity as to whether she’ll want to re-dye it with her signature purple highlight. She seems so downed and depressed, and far from her old cheerful and energetic self, but she’s clearly been through a lot and I’m hoping that she’ll perk up a little when Sophie gets back.

Deciding it’s best to leave her to her thoughts for now, I assure the younger girl that I’ll be back soon, and leave to get some fruit for her to snack on, as well as some cards and a few other board games lying around the staff room.

 

 **Over** the next hour and a half, I manage to teach the blue tailed preteen how to play go fish and snakes and ladders, which we’re currently engaged in, and she’s taken to them with high enthusiasm. The dice clatter against the wide television tray that I’ve set up as she rolls them. Her chosen dark blue game piece, either selected because she likes the color or simply because it matches her tail and appeals to her, is grasped between her fingers and slid forward five spaces, then up a ladder. A content smile dons her face and she seems to finally be relaxing completely around me. I’ve noticed she’s quiet, doesn’t talk too much, but her smile is pretty and shows a retained innocence despite her trials in life. The longest conversation I’ve had with her was when teaching her about snakes and ladders about half an hour ago. She’d argued in a lighthearted tone that it wasn’t logical to slide down the body of a snake, that no snake could really be long and wide enough to accomplish the feat and that sliding down to its head would only get one bitten. It was, frankly, an argument I could picture having with Riley, whom I’m fairly certain said something very similar when Sophie showed her the game.

Taking my turn, I promptly wind up down a snake and further away from the end goal. Luna giggles a little at my misfortune, the sound light and a little airy. Beside her cot, Katie hasn’t moved, and her deep breathing indicates she’s still asleep. It’s perhaps for the best. Judging by Luna’s continuous concern, constantly glancing back, Katie’s mood at the moment is a little unusual in general, not just unusual for the girl I used to know. It’s probably because she’s finally home and still not reunited yet, must be harder than being away.

Luna collects the dice to roll again, letting them drop to the table. Before making her move,  both of our attentions are redirected at the door as it clicks, the handle turning despite the ‘Do not disturb’ sign posted on the door, and there’s only one person who would ignore it and enter without bothering to knock.


	35. Reunited

**Sophie**

I sigh as I finally pull into the parking lot and park the white minivan I’ve driven for the last seven years or so. Groaning softly, I let my head fall to the smooth leather coating of the steering wheel. Cancelled. I left at five in the morning to make the two hour drive out to this year’s meeting place for the annual parks board meeting for all marine parks and sanctuaries on the coast. When I arrived, I’d learned the meeting was cancelled and was failed to be informed. So I’d gotten something to eat and made the trip home, extended another hour and a half due to an accident on the highway. After over five hours on the road in such a short amount of time, I’m tired and in a bit of a sour mood. It feels like one of those days where things are going to continue to go downhill.

Sitting up, I step from the car and out into the warm humidity of the mid-morning sun. Despite the park being open, there’s few cars in the visitor’s lot and no lineup whatsoever, so I decide just to enter through the ticket booth. Garret, one of the employees, looks a little surprised as I walk up to the booth. “Miss Brooks, hello,” he greets. “I thought you were out for a meeting today and weren’t due back until around four at least.”

“That was the plan, but the meeting was cancelled,” I reply.

“No one bothered to call?”

I purse my lips and shake my head. “Apparently not,” I sigh. “How are things going here, any problems you know of?”

Garret shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his shaved scalp, coated only in sparse bristles of dark brown hair. “No, don’t think so. Park’s open, obviously, but not too busy. Animals seem to be fine. Although, apparently, Dr. Patter has been in his office all morning. Big ‘Do not disturb’ sign. He’s not normally holed up in there like that.”

“No, he’s not,” I agree with a frown. “He got a shipment last night, but I don’t know much about it.”

“Was it for the park?”

“Nope. Nothing to do with us, I would have had to clear the reports. But it was delivered here late. Maybe his solitude has something to do with it.”

“Not to speak ill of him, but that sounds a little…sketchy, don’t you think?” Garret comments.

I shrug. “It would, if it wasn’t Lewis we were talking about. But I am going to check in on him,” I decide. “After I get coffee. It’s been a long drive. Have a good day, Garret.”

“You too, Miss Brooks.”

I shake my head and suppress the urge to correct him. The man is far too formal for his own good, but he won’t bend on it either. With a final polite wave, I enter the park and make my way to the staff building. The cobblestone pathway produces a clicking noise as the short heel of my dress shoes connects with it. I can’t wait to shed them for much proffered flats or sneakers. Being a Tuesday morning, it’s not surprising that the park is relatively empty. It’s our slow season anyways. Even the staff is reduced today, so with few people milling about the halls, it’s a short and relatively silent trip to the little kitchenette in the building. The pastel yellow walls and crisp white tiled floor gleam with a recent cleaning, the stone counter free of any dishes or containers save the still fresh pot of coffee left on a warmer. I help myself to a large mug, stirring in some milk and sugar. I deposit the spoon in the sink and lean against the counter to take a sip of the warm brew, sighing with relief.

I’ve finished half the cup before I can bring myself to actually move from my spot and head down the hall to Lewis’s office. Sure enough, the blatant ‘Do not disturb’ sign in obtrusive black block letters is posted on his door. I frown. I’ve posted one myself a few times, when swamped with work, but Lewis normally isn’t very close doored unless he’s working on a critical rescue or something, which isn’t likely since things are so tame today.

Reaching out, I grasp the brass knob. It’s always been a bit stiff, so I have to jiggle it a little before it will actually turn and open. I pause at the sound of a chair scraping and frantic movement. What exactly is going on?

I open the door wide, only to nearly jump from my skin as I find Lewis’s standing right in front of the doorframe, looking flustered. “Sophie,” he greets nervously. “You’re home early. Really early. Is something wrong?”

I shake my head, my frown deepening. “Meeting was cancelled, postponed for two weeks, they just forgot to tell me, apparently. What’s going on with you, holed up in here like this?” I inquire, pushing past him. “And what happened with that odd shipment last night…oh,” I pause and pull up short at the sight before me. A game of snakes and ladders is out, set up over a brown folding tray. Hovering over the board is a young girl, likely between the ages of ten and thirteen. Vibrant blue eyes and ridiculously long brown hair define her features, along with lightly tanned skin, as though it’s just seen the sun recently. None of this is what catches my attention however. It’s the long, slender tail stretching from her hips that commands my focus. The sapphire scales gleam like little gemstones as it shifts on the cot set up in the office. “Hello,” I breathe softly.

The girl shrinks down a bit, looking up at me shyly and waving her hand a little before focusing intently on her scales.

“Soph, this is Luna,” Lewis says. “She came last night. In that,” he nods to the other side of the room. Instinctively, I turn to look. On the floor by his desk are two shipping crates stacked on top of one another.

“She was in a shipping crate? Why? And there’s two crates, Lewis. Who or what was in the second one?”

“Me.” I freeze at the sound of the quiet voice that answers the question. Turning, it’s then that I notice the second cot positioned beside Luna’s. I didn’t see it right away, sitting between her and the wall. Sitting up and staring at me are the bright hazel eyes of a painfully familiar face. My heart skips a beat and my breath hitches in my throat as my chest constricts. The half empty coffee mug slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor, splashing hot coffee over my shoes and feet. Beside me, Lewis tenses slightly, and Luna flinches at the noise. I can’t bring myself to even acknowledge the broken ceramic, feeling my eyes begin to burn as tears well up in them.

“If this is a dream,” I whisper, my voice strained.

“It’s not,” Lewis replies.

“Katie?” I inquire, still unable to elevate my voice past a whisper.

Tears shine in the teen’s eyes as well and she nods.

Shards of the broken cup crunch awkwardly beneath my shoes, but I don’t care. I cross the room rapidly and cup her face with shaking hands. “I don’t understand,” I murmur. “You-you died, there was a funeral, w-we buried you…”

Katie shakes her head. “It wasn’t real,” she replies, swallowing heavily. “I don’t know all the details, but it was never real. I’m alive.”

A gentle smile tugs across my lips. “I missed you, sweetheart. So much.”

The tears that were previously brimming, mine and hers, finally spill over. She nods. “I missed you too. Every day. I-I wasn’t sure I’d get to see you again.” Then her arms are around me, fingers clawing at the back of my shirt and her nose burrowing into my shoulder. “I love you.”

I choke on a sob and hug her back, one hand lacing into her hair and pulling her closer. “I love you too, Katie,” I force out, my knees shaking, legs like gelatin. Confusion is still rampaging through me, but I can’t quite bring myself to pull away long enough to interrogate the three of them.

After a long moment of simply gripping my daughter tightly, I finally sigh softly and begin to pull away. Instantly, Katie’s grip tightens. “Not yet,” she whispers. “I promise, I’ll explain everything that I can, I will. Just not yet; I’m not ready to let go. I’ve wanted you to hold me for so long, and I know that might be childish, but…I just want my mommy.”

I nod, feeling my heart crack, and hold her tighter. “It’s okay,” I breathe. “Whatever’s going on, we’ll work it out, we always do. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” I gently untangle myself from her grasp, despite the crippling desire to hold her close and never let her go. Keeping her wrists enclosed in my grip, I meet her tear-stained gaze. “But you need to fill me in a little, Katie. What’s going on? Where have you been?”

Katie takes a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t remember everything. In fact, I really don’t remember anything after waking up that morning, but I know that the dive I was hired for was a setup,” she begins. I take a seat on the edge of the cot, frowning as I notice her clutching the sheet tightly to her body. “But the next thing I knew, I was waking up strapped down to a table in some sort of underground lab room. At first I thought maybe it was a hospital, but it wasn’t. I was cuffed down, covered by a blanket, but nothing else.” She shudders. I press my lips into a thin line but don’t interrupt. “There was a man there. His name is Dr. Auldon. He asked me questions at first, just simple stuff like my age and identity. He was really just confirming it. Then he started talking about the center we were at, the research and science it was involved in. He told me about Luna, about how they found her a little over six years ago,” Katie states, nodding to the young Mer. “Sophie, she’s real, from the ocean. But when he started talking about mermaids…I thought he was crazy. He kept going on about the research and genetic advancements they’d made. I guess that after six years they finally decided that they wanted to go public with the information.

“He said that they couldn’t just open an exhibit because people wouldn’t like the idea of a sentient creature being alone in a tank, but about how there had been no luck in locating another.”

“I don’t understand,” I can’t help but butt in at this point. “What does this have to do with you, Katie?”

Tears swim in her eyes once more. “Genetics, Sophie. They studied Luna’s DNA, played around with it. They discovered something in it that they call the omega gene. He said that it was a special gene that went virtually unnoticed when introduced into a host, but quickly spread and took over…”

“You mean, like-”

“It didn’t really seem possible,” Katie continues, “What he wanted to do to me. Take the DNA of a mermaid and graft it onto me, turn me into one too. He said that since he can’t find another, he’d just make one.”

“Well, then he was wrong, that’s not possible,” I argue. I glance back at Lewis. “Right?”

“It shouldn’t be,” he murmurs.

“That’s what I thought,” Katie agrees. “I thought he was crazy and yet…” she sighs. “He wasn’t.” With shaking fingers, she pulls away the blanket covering her body. Instead of the long, slender legs that I’d expect, a long tail stretches down from her abdomen. The scales glitter in the light, a bright violet reminds me of amethyst gemstones. I hesitate but reach out and place a hand on the tail. The scales are smooth, yet firm and warm beneath my touch. Despite knowing, deep down, I bring a hand to her hip and push down against the scales, looking for a seam to pull away.

Katie’s hand catches mine and she shakes her head. “Soph, it’s real. I have gills, can breathe underwater. It’s not a costume.”

I continue to stroke the scales in awe a few times. I want to argue, protest that it’s not possible. But I have to admit that the likeness to Riley is uncanny. The tail looks perfectly real. I blow out a long breath. “Okay. It complicates things a bit, for sure, but we’ll figure it out,” I decide, meeting Katie’s hopeful gaze. “It’s going to be alright.”

“So you don’t care?” Katie demands, her grip on my arms tightening desperately. “About the tail? And the fact that I’m not really…well human anymore?”

I shake my head and pull her into a tight hug. “No, I don’t. Not even a little bit. The only things I care about is the fact that you’re home, alive and safe, and stopping those bastards from doing anything like this to someone else.”

The tension in her body vanishes and suddenly the girl is melting in my embrace. “Thank you,” she whispers. After a moment, she pulls away, a thoughtful expression on her face. “You know, I don’t think we have to worry about them doing it again. I don’t think they were able to create that gene. They need Luna. So as long as she’s away from that lab and they don’t find any other Mer, they can’t transform any more people.”

“Then let’s hope it stays that way,” Lewis chimes in. A long moment of silence stretches awkwardly in the room, broken only by a poorly concealed sob.

I glance in the direction and find the young Mer curled in on herself, hands over her mouth in an effort to smother the sound, and tears streaking down her face. Her azure eyes are fixated on Katie. “You mean…they used me? Something inside me to do this to you?” she whimpers. “I just thought that they had based it off me…used some of my blood or something, but that it was ultimately their doing. This is my fault.”

“What? No, Luna; this is not your fault,” Katie replies. I gently pat Katie’s arm before rising from her cot and walking around to stand beside the younger Mer. Luna stares up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes, shrinking down as I approach.

I take a seat on the cot beside her and lift her chin to meet my gaze. “Hon, I want you to listen to me very closely, okay? I don’t know all of what happened to the two of you, but I can imagine that it wasn’t good. But I can assure you that nothing that happened to either of you is anyone’s fault but the people who held you captive, alright? Don’t blame yourself for things beyond your control.”

The child sniffles and rubs at her nose. “But it is,” she insists. “If I had not gotten captured, then-”

“You were six,” Katie protests. I swallow thickly, struggling to imagine such a young child enduring what sounds like horrendous treatment. It makes me physically ill. “It was in no way your fault. You were a child. If anyone is to blame for what happened to me, besides the people truly responsible, it’s myself. I was much older than you when I got caught, and I should have known that it was all a setup. I did know, something just felt off about it. But I chose to ignore my instincts. But this was certainly not your fault, and honestly? I don’t really regret it, Luna,” Katie admits. “I mean, yeah, some things suck, and it was awful there, but…If I hadn’t been kidnapped, you’d still be in that lab, possibly still alone, and I’m glad I met you. I wouldn’t change what happened even if I could.”

A small smile twitches at Luna’s lips and she lifts a fist to rub at one watery eye. I lean forward and drape an arm around her bare shoulders. She’s a little scrawny for her age, even Katie is looking thin, and I make a note to see them both well fed to get their weight up. Pulling the seemingly reluctant child closer, I rub her arm. “It’s okay,” I assure her. “None of this is your fault, and we’re going to figure things out. I’m sure you have a family out there somewhere too, and we’re going to help you find them, no matter what it takes. In the meantime, stay here with us.”

“So, you want me to stay?” The desperate hope in the girl’s face has my chest tightening.

“Of course I do,” I assure her. “You’re more than welcome here any time you like.”

“I told you,” Katie teases gently, reaching out to poke Luna’s ribs. “All that worrying for nothing.”

A small smile returns to the Mer’s face and she nods. A frown just as quickly twitches onto her face. “But how are we going to find my family?” she whispers. “I do not remember anything about them or where I came from. And even out on the boat, we never saw any trace of other Mer.”

I purse my lips and chew the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know, yet,” I admit. “But we’ll figure it all out. I’m just going to need some time to consider the situation and make a plan. I may have an idea of how to start, however. Katie, did these scientists ever mention where they found Luna? What part of the ocean?”

Katie cocks her head to the side, nibbling on her lip a little as she ponders. “No, not specifically. I do remember Dr. Auldon mentioning that she’s from a tropical area with consistently warmer waters, but that doesn’t really narrow it down enough to be helpful.”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “No, it really doesn’t help immensely. But I’m sure together that we’ll think of something. For now, let’s just get the two of you upstairs and settled. I’d feel much better about having you in a more private location than Lewis’s office.”

“I agree,” Lewis chimes in. “Soph, we may be best to use the shipping crates and I can bring up some wheelchairs after.”

I nod. “Good idea,” I agree.

 

 **Fifteen** minutes later, we’re up and settled in the apartment. Katie has her tail curled underneath her, while Luna’s is stretching down from her seat in the wheelchair, her fin curled so it won’t trail on the floor or get caught beneath the wheels. I reach out and squeeze Katie’s shoulder. A grin spreads across her face, eyeteeth elongated into fangs. I force myself not to show surprise at seeing them on her. “It feels good to be back home,” she murmurs.

“Feels even better to have you here,” I counter softly. “Why don’t you go get a shirt that fits properly,” I suggest, tugging on the sleeve of the baggy park tee that’s at least two sizes too big for her. “I’ll make us all some hot chocolates and then we can sit down and talk a little bit more about the present situation. I’d like a bit more detail as well.”

Katie nods. “Alright,” she agrees. She lays a hand on Luna’s arm. “Wait here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, o-okay,” Luna replies softly.

I can feel her gaze on me as I move to the kitchen and pull down four mugs for the hot chocolates. Lewis is getting rid of the shipment crates and then rejoining us.

“So-Sophie?” Her voice is incredibly quiet, just loud enough for me to hear.

I turn back to face the young Mer. Her wide eyes are watching me intently, one fang poking out of her mouth as she chews on her lip. “Yes hon?” I acknowledge.

“Umm, what is hot chocolate?” she inquires, her head tilting to the side, vivid eyes sparkling with a curiosity that has me pausing mid-action; removing the fourth mug from the cabinet overhead. That expression looks immensely familiar.

Giving myself a little shake, I set the mug down and offer her a smile. “It’s a warm drink, Luna. It’s a little hard to explain, you’ll just have to try it once it’s made, okay?”

The child nods, clearly satisfied with the answer. Then; “may I help?”

My smile widens and I nod. “Of course, come here,” I say, moving to the counter with the mugs. I pull down the tin of hot chocolate mix and remove the lid. Once Luna has wheeled over, I scoop a spoonful of the mix and deposit it into a mug before handing the spoon to the girl. “Two tablespoons in each cup, okay?”

The task is simple, perhaps something that might entertain a much younger child, but Luna dedicates herself to it with a focussed passion. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she shakes the spoon over the tin, trying to get an exact measurement. I chuckle softly to myself and leave her to the task while getting the kettle on to boil water.

Moments later, Katie rejoins us, rolling into the kitchen on silent wheels. Her hair has been braided back and she’s donned a pale green t-shirt with white block lettering reading _Sun and Surf._ She pulls open the fridge door and removes the milk and honey and closes the door, setting both on the counter. I reach over and squeeze her shoulder, unable to quell the joy swelling in my heart.

Katie glances back at me, and there’s a sad longing her gaze, but she doesn’t voice any of it, simply offering me a half smile and then turning her attention back to her young friend.

The sharp whistling of the kettle as the water comes to a boil steals my focus away before I get the chance to comment. Lifting it free of the burner, I claim Luna’s other side and maneuver the kettle over to fill the four mugs. “Katie, you and Luna go sit down on the couch; I’ll be in, in a moment.”

Katie nods. “Come on, Luna.”

“Okay,” the young Mer agrees quietly, following Katie out of the kitchen. Once they’re gone, I busy myself with finishing off the hot chocolates, allowing my mind to puzzle over my daughter’s behavior. She seems so withdrawn, perhaps not unusual if her experience has been as horrid as it seems to have been, but there’s something she seems to be holding back and I want to know what it is.

I glance back at them. Luna is curled in on herself, head bowed with her massive amount of hair falling around her face like a protective veil, while Katie has her hand on the younger Mer’s shoulder. Her lips are moving as she whispers something, likely encouragement or reassurances. It’s then that the problem dawns on me. Taking two of the mugs, I move into the living room and set them down in front of the two girls. “Careful,” I murmur to Luna. “It is hot, so be careful not to burn yourself.”

Once I’ve brought the other two mugs in, I turn to Katie, who has her fingers curled around the mug, the ceramic lip brushing against her chin, but forgotten as she stares off into space, the steam of the beverage coiling up in her face. “Katie, can I talk to you for a second?” I inquire, watching the effect my words have on drawing her from her trance. It still takes a long moment before I seem to have her attention.

“Okay,” she murmurs, setting her mug down and pulling her wheelchair closer.

“Luna, Lewis will be up in a moment, okay? Think you’ll be alright here for a minute or two by yourself? I just need to speak to Katie about something, okay?”

Wide blue orbs fixate on me for a long moment before the owner of them licks her lips and nods hesitantly.

Katie remains silent as she follows me down the hall. I motion her into my room and close the door gently behind me. I pat a spot on the bed and watch her carefully as she braces herself on the edge of the mattress and begins to push herself up. She slips on the fabric, however, and I react instantly in looping an arm around her amethyst tail and helping her up. Her eyes are watery as she tries to avoid my gaze.

I take a seat next to her and rest my hands in my lap, lacing the fingers together. “So, now that we’re away from everything else…do you want to talk about what’s on your mind?” Katie licks her lips, swallowing heavily, but ultimately remains silent. “Katie,” I press. “What’s bothering you? Is it the tail?”

“It’s everything,” she whispers, her voice cracking. I watch a fat tear roll slowly down her cheek to drip onto her scales. She sniffles and rubs at her nose. “I’m scared.”

I nod, reaching out to drape an arm over her shoulders and draw her closer. She leans her head on me. “Of what?” I ask.

“Everything,” she whimpers, more tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m afraid for Luna, and what will happen to her, I’m terrified of them finding us here, taking us back. Sophie, I don’t want to go back,” she cries, wrapping her arms and squeezing me as though I am going to disappear. “It was awful, Sophie. I can’t go back there…Luna can’t. And I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel like everything I had planned for the future is now totally out of reach…And if I’m supposed to be dead…” she sighs. “They’re not going to stop looking for me, for either of us. I can’t even really leave the apartment, can I?”

I swallow thickly and stroke her hair. “Luna is going to be fine, Katie,” I assure her. “Don’t worry about that, okay? We’re going to sort her out. And you’re both safe. I promise you that, Katie. I’m not going to let them get to you this time. And even if things go astray, at least we know what’s going on. They can’t trick us the next time. You know I would never stop looking for you, never just let them take you like that.”

“Yeah…yeah, I know,” she whispers, hiccupping softly and wiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just…you don’t know what it was like. I didn’t think I was going to get to see you again.”

I sigh and pat her back. “I can sympathize on that,” I whisper. I pull her closer and hug her tightly against me. “I’ve missed you so much, Katie. I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like for you. And part of me doesn’t even want to know…But I want you to know that you can still talk to me. That part hasn’t changed,” I assure her.

Katie sighs softly, her body falling slack against me. “I know. Soph?” she glances up at me, her vivid hazel eyes shimmering with more tears. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I guess I just needed to admit to myself what I was so afraid of. Say it out loud, you know?”

“I do,” I agree. “I know you, Kate; you care so much about others, and you’re trying to keep it together for that little girl out there. It’s commendable, but just remember you have to worry about yourself as well.”

“I know,” Katie sighs. “I do feel a bit better now. Really.” She smiles softly and this time it does reach the rest of her face. IT’s genuine. Worry still glitters in her irises, but I feel more confident now that she’s feeling better. “So hey, can I ask you something? When do we get to meet this other Mer that you know?”

I pull back, a little startled by the question. “How did you know that?”

She grins, the fangs gleaming in her smile a little unnerving on her. “Well, for starters, your reaction to Luna was far less than what I would expect. You’re good at just rolling with a lot, but not like that. Besides, you never once asked how long Luna and I can remain out of the water or if we need to be kept wet. You didn’t inquire as to if we can have things like hot chocolate. There was just an overall sense of chill, like you already knew. And I could maybe understand Lewis knowing ahead of time. That perhaps Olivia would have told him.”

“Olivia?” I interrupt. “Lewis’s friend? She was involved in this? Just how long did Lewis know about this?”

Katie shrugs. “I don’t really know all the details,” she admits.

“Never mind,” I state with a wave of my hand, forcing myself to let it go for now. “Go on.”

Katie pauses for a moment and shrugs. “Yeah, I just suspected. This confirmed it.” She reaches into the little chest pocket of her t-shirt and produces one of Riley’s sandy colored scales. This one lacks the usual luster, making me suspect it fell off a little while ago. “We tend to shed scales, I’ve noticed. This was in my room.”

I shrug sheepishly. “Caught red-handed, huh?” I chuckle. “Her name is Riley, and she’s around your age,” I begin. “She was a rescue about two and half months ago. She’s not here full time or anything, but she comes to visit often.”

Katie’s grin widens and excitement sparkles in her gaze. “Really? Wow, that’s actually great,” she exclaims, her tailfin flicking out. “She could teach both Luna and I more about…well, everything. Luna was only six when she was captured, she doesn’t know too much about her own culture or history or way of life. And I kind of want to learn, given it is sort of who I am now. Do you think she might be able to help Luna find her family, too?”

“I’m hoping she might be able to assist. She might at least know some of the family groups in the area and possibly be able to inquire about a missing child for us. It should help get us started at least. Maybe we’ll get lucky. She’ll be back in a few days and we can ask then. Listen, Katie, it might be best not to tell Luna right now, alright? She seems rather fragile, and Riley’s not the most dependable character. She may wind up being late. And regardless, I don’t know if she’ll be able to help. Just…don’t get her hopes up yet.”

Katie frowns but nods. “Yeah, you’re right. It would just get her worked up and excited. Better to let her settle in,” she decides. She slumps against me and smiles. “It feels so good to finally be home.”

“Kid, you have no idea how much better it feels to _have_ you home.”


	36. Sanctuary

**Sophie**

When we return to the living room, Lewis has returned and is sitting with Luna, speaking quietly to her. The girl has her mug clutched, almost possessively in her hands. But her shoulders are relaxed, and the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Her gaze flits to Katie and I as we re-enter. Her head tilts to the side, a small frown etching across her features as her attention settles on my daughter. Katie’s eyes are still stained red from crying. “Are you okay?” the Mer asks.

Katie remains silent as she busies herself with getting settled back on the couch next to Luna, while I claim the empty space in the arm chair perpendicular to the sofa. “Yeah,” she replies after a long moment. “Everything’s alright.” The whispered words seem to be meant as an assurance to everyone in the room, herself included.

I nod at her, pausing to take a sip from my hot chocolate and shift in my spot before I fix my gaze on the two girls. “Alright. Now we need to talk. Now, while I have no desire to make you both relive what I can guess is a painful experience, I do need to know the details and get a picture of what we may still be up against,” I point out, watching Luna shrink back and Katie’s shoulders sag. “So I need the full story, in as much detail as you both can manage without it being too upsetting for you.”

Katie nods and inhales sharply. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “I can do that. Luna, are you okay to be here or would you like to leave?” she inquires, her focus shifting to the child beside her who has paled significantly. “I know it’s not an easy subject. Especially for you.”

The tip of Luna’s tongue swipes out across her lips as she licks them and wrings her fingers. She’s quivering and I expect her to take Katie up on that suggestion to go elsewhere. I even start to rise, ready to get her set up in one of the bedrooms. “No,” Luna whispers, halting my motions. “No, I will be okay,” she decides.

Katie regards her silently for a long moment before nodding. “Okay,” she agrees. “I’m going to start where it begins for me, since that’s what I know. If you want to add anything, go ahead.” Katie’s eyes close for a moment, and she takes a deep shuddering breath before beginning to speak.

 

 **By** the time Katie has finished speaking, the atmosphere in the room has changed completely. Her eyes are moist with fought back tears, her head bowed. She brings one fisted hand up to rub at her eyes. Beside her, Luna has paled even more, curled up into a fetal position with her arms clenched around the azure scales of her tail, now pulled to her chest. Her eyes are closed, but flecks of liquid still glisten on her lashes. Lewis has his own gaze lowered, jaw clenched tightly, as he picks at his fingernails with focused intensity.

I swallow thickly, lowering my hand from my mouth. Rising from my seat, I move over to the couch. My fingers brush against Katie’s skin as I sweep her hair out of the way. It’s not visible everywhere, which is why I likely didn’t notice it before, but on the back of her neck is the scarred mark left behind from the shock collar they had her wearing, and I’m sure Luna will have a mark somewhere as well. Beneath my touch, Katie stiffens and pulls away.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “It’s mostly healed. You can barely tell it’s there anymore. I’m fine.”

“No you’re not,” I retort, anger bubbling in me. “Neither of you are. No one would be after that.”

Luna sniffles softly from her fetal position. A suppressed sob bubbling from her lips. I glance at her, at the tears streaming from her closed eyes and the rigidness of her arms as she squeezes her tail. I chew my lip as I watch her. According to Katie’s story, most of the life that Luna can remember was spent in that laboratory, under the cruel hand of a sadistic man who ought to have been stripped of his title long ago. I really should have insisted she not be present for the recounting, would have if I’d known the severity of it for her.

Reaching out a hand, I rest it on the young girl’s tail. Her head jerks up, watery eyes focusing on me. “You’re safe now,” I assure her. “I know it was awful, and I can’t even begin to comprehend what it was like for you, for either of you. But I do know that I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure you never have to go through it again, okay?”

Tears are still leaking from the child’s eyes, but a twitch of a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth and she nods. “Thank you,” she whispers.

I shake my head and pat her scales gently. “Dry your tears now, sweetie,” I whisper, bringing a hand up to wipe at one of the liquid beads rolling down her cheek.

“So,” Katie’s voice is shaky as she speaks up. “Do we have a plan?”

I pause to ponder the question, feeling several eyes on me as I do. “Well, to start, I want to put tracers in the two of you. And Katie, I know that probably doesn’t sound pleasant given what we typically use them for, but I want a failsafe.”

Katie nods. “No, I get it. I don’t mind. Not like we’d notice it once it’s in anyways.”

“What is a tracer?” Luna inquires, her crystal orbs darting between Katie, Lewis, and I.

“It’s a little device,” Katie begins. “No bigger than say…half a fingernail? Maybe smaller? Anyways, it sends out a special signal that special computers can find, so that it can be located, no matter where it was in the world.”

Luna chews her lip, a ponderous expression crossing her face. “So you want to put one inside us so that your computers can find us, no matter where we are?” she clarifies, her attention now fixated on me.

I nod. “Yes. That way, if things go wrong and you do wind up back where you were, we can find you immediately and come after you.”

“Can you put it in now?” Luna begs.

I gently pat the smooth scales of her curled tail. “Tomorrow,” I assure her. “For now, let’s all just take a breather okay? We can put things on hold for one night,” I decide firmly. “Are either of you hungry?”

Katie nods. “Starved, actually. I didn’t have much appetite earlier, but now that things feel more relaxed, I’m more easily reminded that I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday morning.”

“Well, I guess I had best get to making some supper then. Any cravings?” I inquire, rising from the couch. “Luna, are you hungry?”

“A little,” the younger girl responds.

Katie, having been previously chewing on the inside of her cheek, finally responds. “You know what I want, more than anything in the world? Not that I don’t love your cooking, but I crave pizza. Or something greasy and bad for me. Doesn’t really matter what in retrospect.”

I frown. While experiences with Riley has proven that Mer can consume more than seafood, and even handle processed foods pretty well, I have no idea what sort of havoc something like that could do to their systems. Especially if Luna is as unaccustomed to our foods as Riley once was. “Katie, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. We don’t know how that might affect your systems.”

Katie’s brown gold braid flings out a bit, smacking against her shoulder as she shakes her head. “No, it’s just like with the hot chocolate. We can eat regular food, Soph, same as you can.”

“Are you sure?” I press. “Because food like that…Katie, I just don’t want to risk you two getting sick due to a bad reaction.”

“I’m sure,” Katie insists, then she sighs, clearly relenting. “But if it’s that much of a concern, we can just have something else, it’s fine. I wasn’t trying to stress you out over it.”

“No, Katie’s right, Soph. There shouldn’t be a problem,” Lewis pipes up finally, having been previously silent all through Katie’s retelling and the conversation after. “Besides, from what I gather, they’ve been consuming normal food for the few weeks they were with Olivia. They’ll be fine. And pizza is quick and easy, rather than having to scramble to get something ready now.”

At his words, I instinctively glance at the time. Six thirty. We’ve been sitting here for several hours already. The time just seemed to slip by, I hadn’t even noticed. “I guess you’re right,” I concede. “Well, we’ll get two pizzas then, and halve them. What does everyone want?”

“Peperoni, black olives, and onion,” Lewis pipes up immediately.

“Yuck,” Katie counters, sticking out her tongue. “That’s so disgusting.”

“Right, because yours is so much better,” Lewis quips back.

I roll my eyes at their childish banter. “So you’re usual then, Katie?” At her nod, I make the mental note. “Alright, so peperoni, black olives, and onion for Lewis, pineapple, mushroom, and feta for you, just cheese for me, and…oh…Luna, you have no idea what we’re on about, do you?” I inquire as I catch sight of her rather vacant, confused expression.

She shakes her head. “What is pizza?”

Katie begins to laugh. “It’s a little hard to explain. Kind of like a greasy, cooked flat bread with stuff on top. I think you’ll like it.”

This explanation doesn’t seem to alleviate Luna’s confusion, but she simply shrugs, accepting the explanation.

“And if you don’t, there’s plenty to snack on around here,” I add. “Katie, you know her better than us, any ideas on what she’d like.”

“I like pineapple,” Luna ventures quietly. “And mangoes. Can you put mango on it?”

Katie frowns. “I don’t think so, Luna. Sorry, I know it’s your favorite, but it’s not really a typical pizza topping. You might like anchovies though. They’re small, salty fish.”

Luna nods eagerly. “Okay.”

“Anything else?” I inquire.

Luna shakes her head. “No, I will try that, it sounds good.”

“Alright, then pineapple and anchovies for Luna. Okay, give me a minute to order. Katie why don’t you find us a board game or something and we’ll play while we wait. It’s been too long since we sat down to play something.”

 

 **We** end up playing Sorry. At first, the consensus was for trivial pursuit, nature addition, but even with the animal and plant specific questions, Luna’s lack of knowledge about most things, along with her inability to read, would have put her at too much of a disadvantage. I promised to start helping her learn first thing tomorrow. Nevertheless, the game is fun to play, and Luna seems to have developed a mischievous side and a focus on Lewis, who she constantly goes after to take his piece off the board, even if the move doesn’t necessarily benefit her.

“Come on,” Lewis groans. “I just got back in, pick on someone else,” he protests as Luna draws another Sorry card and sends him back to his ‘start’. She sticks her tongue out at him.

“You’ve made a competitive enemy,” I tease, taking my turn and moving another piece into my safe zone. Katie is winning, but not by much. Lewis, as expected, is losing, and Luna doesn’t seem too concerned either way, happily maintaining her third place position.

The game is put on pause as the buzzer to the apartment doors goes off. I rise from the table and type in the code to let the visitor in, and minutes later, the deliverer is at the door. I pay him, thanking him, and take the pizza boxes into the apartment.

Katie is actually drooling at the smell and before I can even get plates, she’s thrown open the lid to the first box. Scrunching her nose at the sight of Lewis’s half, paired with mine, she pushes it aside, claims a piece of her preferred pizza, and nearly takes half of it off in one bite. I laugh, watching her eyes flutter in delight, and within seconds the piece is scarfed down. Luna stares at her in shock before leaning forward to give the pizza a sniff, staring at it curiously. I pass out paper plates and get Luna a slice of hers.

“Just be careful, it is hot.”

She nods and cautiously picks the slice up like she saw Katie do. Her bite is tentative, and she struggles as a long strand of cheese refuses to pull free. I watch her calmly for a verdict, ready to find her something else if she’s not fond of the food. “It is different,” she comments finally. Seeming to decide, she takes another bite. “But not unpleasant.”

And then we’re back to playing games, laughing, and enjoying the pizzas. When we tire of Sorry, we move to playing cards. Crazy Eights is a bit of a more difficult concept for Luna to grasp at first, but as soon as she catches on, she’s playing like a pro and winning rounds easily.

The experience is all in all, massively enjoyable, and I feel a bit lightheaded, as if this were a wonderful dream instead of the reality I’d hoped and wished for over the past several months.

 

 **After** a while, when we’ve all become stuffed on pizza and tired of the games, I finally stand and begin to put the leftover pizza into one box and into the fridge while the others tidy up the games.

“I have some last minute filing I have to do before tomorrow,” Lewis announces, joining me in the kitchen. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes,” I agree. “There’s a few things you and I need to talk about.”

Lewis nods, his smile slipping and face becoming solemn. I know instantly that he’s well aware of the ‘chat’ we’re going to have about his involvement in this whole situation. “Yeah, figured that was coming,” he agrees. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He fidgets slightly, seeming like he might lean in to kiss my cheek, then seems to decide otherwise and just offers me a soft smile before turning and making his way out of the apartment.

“Don’t be too mad at him,” Katie’s voice startles me. I hadn’t heard her approach.

“What?”

She smiles up at me and shrugs. “It’s not hard to tell that you’re upset. I don’t think it was because he didn’t want to tell you. Olivia wouldn’t let me call you either when I basically begged her. She made a good point. They would have looked at you and this place first when we went missing. You couldn’t know, or have any involvement. Lewis didn’t know anything either, besides that I was alive and there were plans being made to set us free. If you had known, you would have had to wait for goodness knows how long, unable to act. I know you, Soph, you don’t like sitting idle, especially if it’s something important to you. If I were Lewis, I wouldn’t have told you either. Even I agreed it was better that way, even if I desperately wanted to talk to you again.”

I sigh. “I guess you’re right, kid, but that doesn’t change the fact that he hid something this important to me, for months. Katie, despite the logic, it’s hard to be okay with that.”

“Everything about this is hard,” Katie counters. “But you like him, and it’s taken the both of you this long to finally admit feelings and get together, it’s pathetic actually, that it took so long. Don’t tear it all apart now by getting angry about something that’s in the past. I’m here now, and you knowing wouldn’t have let you see me or talk to me any sooner, so what difference does it make, really?”

I smile and ruffle her hair a little. “You know, I’m the one who is supposed to be giving you advice, not the other way around.”

Katie shrugs. “Well, I promise to do something soon that warrants a lecture and some guidance, okay?”

“Don’t you dare,” I laugh, leaning down to hug her tightly. “So, what’s your plan now?” I inquire. “It’s getting later. I have to turn in soon, as much as I’d love to pull an all-nighter with you, I have to be up in the morning. You and Luna just going to turn in?”

“I think Luna might appreciate being shown how to run a bath. She’s not as comfortable staying dry as I am. It won’t really give her room to swim, but a chance to soak her scales would probably be appreciated.”

I nod. “Well, I can help her with that, then. What about you?”

Katie shakes her head. “I don’t know, yet. I don’t quite feel ready for sleep. There’s some things I want to think about. I may just sit out here a while.”

“Alright. You know where I am if you need me, okay?” I search her face. With everything these two have faced, I don’t want her to be left with dark thoughts.

She offers me a weak smile. “I’m okay, Sophie. But I need some time alone, I think.”

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I tuck some stray hairs back behind her ear. “Alright. Just don’t exhaust yourself, okay? I’ll get Luna set up for the night, then. I’ll look into proper accommodations tomorrow, so she’s just going to have to share your bed tonight.

Katie raises an eyebrow. “Sophie, we’ve been sharing a tank for months. It’s not too big a deal. She feels so much like a little sister. I don’t mind at all…admittedly, her presence has grown comforting since we met.”

I nod, bidding her goodnight and moving back into the dining room to collect Luna. The younger girl seems rather enthusiastic about the chance to get in the water, and I make the mental note to remember to find some opportunities for them both to swim properly.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is currently being reposted here and on Deviantart. I hope you all enjoy.


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